Twilight Princess: Midna's Shard
by Reghedable
Summary: After the events of TP, Link finds a glass shard that may be another connection to the Twilight Realm. He finds it is a one-way deal, and that the Twili are not what they seem. LinkxMidna, with a unique twist in the later chapters. Please review!
1. The Discovery

And so it came to pass that the Mirror of Twilight shattered into a thousand pieces.

With the Mirror destroyed, Ganondorf's only potential link to the Hyrule was severed. This event certainly marked a golden age in Hyrule's history, an age of joy and celebration; but it was not all so.

There remained a youth unturned by the remarkable rebirth of Hyrule. But it did not matter.

This youth, so instrumental in the saving of Hyrule, was of little consequence at this point. The danger was gone, and though the youth's quest and legacy would remain for generations, he himself grew more and more obscure in the passing weeks to the people that were so indebted to him.

But it did not matter. Not to him, anyways.

He gained so much from his journey, learned so much, but now? Completely worthless, all of it. He lost more than he gained, far more. When the world was naught but darkness, when twilight cloaked Hyrule, he had only one by his side; the Twilight Princess. Together they had done so much, fought so hard against all but insurmountable odds, only for him to be left in the dust over a _precaution_.

Their worlds were destined to meet again, after so many years of division! It could have been the unity of two great kingdoms, that of the Twili and of the Hylians!

_But she shattered the Mirror, _thinks the youth.

He sits in a dusky corner of the Mirror Room, the chamber atop the ruins of the ancient prison. The sun is drifting behind the mountains, and twilight bathes the sky in honeydew.

_How ironic,_ thinks he, a dry smile cracking his worn face. _I, Link, the mighty Hero, moping over a broken mirror. _In the failing light, he scans the sandy ground for nothing in particular; he finds his mind wandering more and more lately, as if trying to escape the inevitability of stagnation. Without something to distract him, he'll just wind his way back to the Mirror.

Truly, however, it isn't the Mirror, nor the Twili, that he really cares about; interaction between the worlds is all well and good, but simply an excuse.

All he really wants to do is see Midna, the _real_ Midna, again.

There was once a night when the rain poured unceasingly. Midna, who had lived within the tranquility of the Twilight Realm for all her life, didn't know what to make of this.

They had just cleared Lake Hylia of twilight and were preparing to revisit Zora's River when the storm struck. He was human at the time, but they were too far from civilization; they were forced to hunt down a niche to shelter in until the rain stopped. They found a rocky outcropping, and slipped in before it started to come down heavily. It was a small, dank shelter, with only the crack they slid in through as an opening. Link worked his way inside, turning himself around, sitting cross-legged, facing toward the opening. Throughout all this time, Midna sat on Link's lap, pressing close to his chest, watching the spectacle; she had come into form when Link sat down, as hiding in his shadow in a cramped place like this would be too uncomfortable.

He remembers asking her why she was so unnerved, and getting a snappy quip in response. He remembers her asking him what all this 'rainfall' was for, in her usual _not-that-I-care_ way.

"When the clouds above us get dark, it usually means rain is coming. The darker the clouds are, the more likely it'll rain," was his response, as far as he can remember. "You're lying," she responded, her smugness quite audible. "In the Twilight Realm we have clouds far darker than this, but it never rains there."

"Ah," Link returned, "but we aren't in the Twilight Realm, now are we?"

She quieted at that, propping her head up with her tiny fists, watching the rain fall. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she finally responded, her voice tinted with nostalgia.

"What is the Twilight Realm like, anyways? Anything like what we've seen here?" He said, trying to lighten the mood a little.

A few moments passed, and Link wasn't sure if she was going to respond.

"It's... Well, it's a lot different," she said, seeming reluctant to go further. "I don't think you'd understand half of it, if I were to tell you."

Link leaned his back on the rock wall behind him, relaxing those aching muscles. "Why don't you try me?" He responded, vaguely interested.

"Well," she said, stretching herself out as well, "the first thing that hits you is the sky. Clouds darker than you could imagine always flowing across the golden sky, fracturing the light like, like..." She said, struggling for a proper metaphor.

"Like you're underwater?" Link offered.

"Yeah, like you're underwater," she continued, unabated. "The Twilight Realm doesn't have any continuous land; everything floats in perpetuity. We can levitate, so it's not a big deal. For flightless Hylians like yourself, however, it can be more of a problem," she said, giving Link a quick smirk. "Other than that, well, not much else you'd be able to grasp unless you saw it for yourself."

Link was expecting a condescending tone in her voice, but heard not a hint. Her expression was an odd mix of longing and uncertainty. "It instills a sort of calm in my people, a sort of tranquility," she said, once again looking toward the mouth of the outcropping, the massive rainfall crashing like thunder outside. "You don't sound so sure," said Link, detecting the subtle change in his friend.

"It's what we've been told for generations, that the Twilight is a land of peace and serenity. But since I've been here, in Hyrule, I really do wonder if that's the whole story. There's life everywhere, so much activity, like the world itself is ebbing and flowing with time. To this, the Twilight Realm seems almost..." She trailed off at the end, once again hunching over Link's lap.

She wanted to say _lifeless_, this he is now sure of. His brief time in the Twilight Realm told him enough. The people there, if they could truly be called so, seemed almost specters of what they once must have been. Perhaps it was Zant's magic; but more likely is the effect the land has on them. There was something inherently poisonous about the Twilight, something he felt pull on his spirit while he pursued Zant. It was almost as if the Twilight itself was drawing his energy from him, somehow.

_Here I go, dwelling again, _he thinks with repudiation. Getting up, he dusts his pants and tunic off. He grabs one of his bottles and takes a swig of water, spilling a bit on his hand as he drinks.

Ignoring this, he continues to walk toward the exit to the Mirror Chamber.

Something nicks his shoe and he stumbles, dropping the bottle onto the ground, it's contents spilling across the sand.

He curses, kneeling to the ground to pick the bottle back up.

It's there, curled in the damp sand, that he sees a glint.

The sun is almost down, only a sliver remaining above the mountain range, but the object is still glinting strongly.

_Couldn't be,_ thinks Link, excitement rising like a tide in him.

He paws at the sand withholding the glinting object, retracting it quickly at a sharp, jagged pain. He looks to see his finger cut, bleeding. More carefully, he feels around the object.

Slightly larger than his own hand, it feels like a fragment. _A shard, _he thinks, almost giddy with shock.

Pulling it out of the sand, it indeed reveals itself to be a shard. For a moment Link's heart soars, the possibility of the mirror still being somehow repairable dominating his thoughts.

But it crashes into the floor as soon as he inspects it closer. It's nothing like the Mirror shards; it's design is similar, but it's shape gives it away. It's shaped like a triangle, a corner of someone's forgotten mirror, perhaps.

Dejected, he almost tosses it back into the sand. And he most certainly would have. If it didn't throb.

It begins to pulse softly in his hand, forcing him to give it another look. He feels the vibration in his hand, soothing against his tired muscles. He gives the mirror shard a hard look, scrutinizing every detail on the reflective side. At first, there is nothing but his own pale reflection, hard eyes glaring into himself.

But then, the image slowly clouds, as if he had breathed on it. His eyes are straining against the dimming light; finally he gives up, pocketing the thing and making his way out of the Mirror Chamber. He intends to get to the bottom of this; if it's some kind of Twilian relic or something, maybe it still has some sort of connection to the Realm itself. It has some kind of magic, he's sure about that much at least.

Outside, he saddles Epona, getting ready to ride back to Ordon; he'll have some explaining to do to Ilia before she'll let him off the hook for being gone so long.

Sighing audibly, he kicks Epona into action, tearing across the desert peninsula like a sandstorm.


	2. Revelations

Link arrives deep into the night, Epona quietly trotting down the path to his house. He dismounts as soon as he gets near the end of the trail, hoping to sneak Epona into her stall and get to bed before anyone notices him.

As if he couldn't have guessed, Ilia is sitting on his balcony, waiting for him. As soon as he enters her sights, she jumps up, sliding down his ladder with uncanny speed.

"Where have you been? You said you'd be back hours ago!" Ilia has an almost comical expression of anger mixed with expectation. But Link doesn't have time for this right now; he feels the shard pulsing in his tunic pocket, eager to reveal it's secrets to him. "Sorry. Didn't realise how long I was gone for," he says, over his back, while he leads Epona to the side of the house. But she won't let him off that easy. "Link," she continues in a softer voice, "you've been acting strange ever since that big showdown in the castle. I wish you'd talk to me about it-" She cuts herself off when she notices Link halfway up his staircase. "Fine then! Be like that, asshole!" She yells up to him, her pout firmly upon her face once more, before storming off toward the village. He pays no heed; he can finally investigate the mirror shard in proper lighting!

_What do we have here,_ he thinks to himself, while lighting an oil lamp over his small desk. Turning the shard over in his hands, he resettles his eyes upon the reflective side. The faint pulse that he felt in the Mirror Chamber has been steady growing; when he lay the piece upon his desk, it visibly begins to vibrate, emitting a humming sound.

_No, not just a humming sound,_ he thinks. _I can hear something else, too. But what?_

Slowly, the fog begins to cloud it again, like vapour against a window on a warm, wet day.

For a few minutes, all the fog does is fade and reform with the pulsing, humming noise. Link is about to touch it again when a distinct shape begins to form out of the fog. _A... A square? No, a rectangle,_ he figures, watching the lines being traced into the fog by an invisible, guiding finger. The rectangle increases in depth, detail and precision until Link could swear he was looking at the picture of some type of desk, not unlike the one he is using right now.

_Looks like... It looks like I'm seeing the desk from the perspective of a person sitting, facing toward it, maybe? A small rectangle is forming above it... From the looks of it, it could be a chair or so-_

His eyes lock in place as his blood runs cold. For a minute there, he almost thought he- _No, nonsense. Impossible,_ he thought to himself with quiet reproach. _No way, couldn't have been, not-_

He almost falls off his chair; his eyes nearly pop out of his skull.

His face bathes in cold sweat, soaking his collar.

There, within the strange animation before him, an attractive, if not somewhat unusual looking young woman is fixing her rich orange hair up. She is looking directly at him, as if through a dirty window.

At least, that's how it looks from his perspective.

The pulsing, humming sound evens out to a uniform buzz, occasionally crackling with the rhythmical movements and folding of the woman's hair.

Link is staring, with a gaping mouth, at someone he thought he'd never lay eyes on again. He is staring at Midna, Princess of the Twilight Realm.

"Midna!" He yells, attempting to catch her attention. If she heard him, she made no sign of it; she simply went on working with her hair, looking at him almost as if he...

… _As if I were some sort of mirror,_ he concludes. She still hasn't changed much, the dark princess; those deep, almost dangerous looking eyes always belied her true nature.

She finishes with her hair, getting up and leaving the frame. She returns after a few moments with a strange looking book in her hands. It's a small, black book with the same strange, glowing runes upon it that seem customary with Twili.

Laying it down, she pulls a strange looking quill-like object out of her robe. She also lays it down on the desk, beside the book.

She opens the book to the first page, folding it down carefully. She then puts the tip of the quill in her mouth. Tiny runes immediately begin to glow around the quill, as if Midna is somehow charging it.

Taking it out of her mouth, she holds it directly above the blank first page of the book, as if to stab it. She then simply lets it fall out of her hand.

It falls perfectly straight, but does not hit the page; it seems to float an inch above the page, idle, as if in expectancy of action.

Midna then pulls what Link theorized was a chair out, and sits on it.

For a minute, nothing happens.

Then he saw the quill slowly fall closer toward the page, until it touched it's upper left corner. The mirror shard began to crackle once more, growing more and more distinct with each passing second.

Eventually he could make out someone's muffled voice, though he didn't hear it well enough to understand any words.

Static sound and a light hum, so familiar, haunts his hearing.

Finally.

A lilting voice he thought he'd never hear again filters through the buzz, as if across a great distance:

_**One of my maids recommended I keep a record to help organise my thoughts. So here I am.**_

_**My name is Midna. I am the Princess of the Twilight Realm, and if anyone finds this, you have the unbelievable luck to have found my personal journal.**_

The broadcast, growing in strength with each second, is music to Link's ears. He-

… _**I'm sitting on an old relic of a dresser that was supposed to have belonged in the Royal Family for generations. Looks like junk to me, to be honest. A good chunk of the mirror broke off quite a few years ago, apparently during that big feud between my ancestors and the Hyrule Royal Family over them constantly sending condemned criminals over to our side, forcing us to contend with them. Oh well; it was rumoured to have magic properties long ago, but in this condition? Not likely.**_

Link notices the quill is furiously scratching away at the journal at a speed that dizzied him. Midna's expression, though hard to read through the dirty-window of the shard, was clearly troubled.

_**If I'm going to write any form of journal that means something, I'd better stop dwelling on stupid crap like my ancestor's desk. The fact is... We're in trouble. The Royal Family, that is. There are five noble houses that are under my vassalage. For generations, they've kept themselves in line... But with what Zant managed to pull, they've grown defiant.**_

Link notices something else about her expression; she looks exhausted. The rich, black makeup that frames her eyes fails to hide the dark circles. And the way the corner of her mouth twitches, just slightly, betrays her weariness.

_**I've been thinking a lot lately. It was probably for the greater good that I broke the mirror, but... I don't know, it just seems sometimes that I could use a champion of my own to put things back in shape. And I had one, too. I wonder what he's up to th-**_

She turns to the left, seemingly beckoned. A rivulet of fear passes through her profile like a shiver.

_**To be continued! **_ She yells, jumping up and nearly knocking her book down. She storms out of the room.

For a long moment Link remains transfixed by the shard, unable to process what he just saw.

He frantically goes over himself, trying to understand what happened a few minutes ago.

Midna. _Yes, I saw her._

In the shard. _No disputing that._

How?

…

_Drawing a blank, here, old boy,_ he thinks to himself, failing at rationalizing this unbelievable stroke of fate. _ Does it matter? I saw her! _But he stops himself there. _Yes, I saw her, which means there's still some connection to the Twilight Realm in Hyrule._

Could it be possible? Another link to the Twilight Realm? And Midna sounded like she was in trouble.

He would have to hide this from Ilia, somehow; after what she went through during Link's quest, her phobia of anything Twili escalated into all-out paranoia. _ If she got a hold of this,_ he thinks,_ she'd think it's possessing me or something. _And that would be the last he would see of it, he's sure of that much. Ilia aside, the rest of the village would likely not take any more kindly to Twili relics than she would; as far as Hyrule was concerned, the Twili were no different from Ganondorf or Zant.

Of the few people he could confide this information to... Zelda's off the list; she'd likely lecture him over _the past must remain the past_ and _the realms must remain separate_, blah blah... Renado, perhaps? _It's worth a shot,_ he hopes to himself.

Another glance at the mirror shard reveals that it seems to have gone dormant; the swirling fog that covered the shard is all that remains of the image.

He picks it up gingerly, as if it could crumble to dust at the slightest mishandling.

Laying it under his pillow, he pulls himself into bed. He won't risk leaving it out in the open; Ilia has awoken him in his house before.

Tonight, some rest.

Tomorrow, he will head for Kakariko, seeking Renado. If anything, he can at least offer Link some guidance. He could just as easily condemn the shard and reprimand him for bringing it to his presence.

He falls asleep fervently wishing for the former, while a storm brews outside that bears uncanny resemblance to that torrent of rain, months agone.


	3. Midna's Troubles

Before Midna stands Ralu, her most trusted attendant. "My Lady, I have extremely troubling news."

_As if I didn't know_, thinks Midna, already guessing at what he would say next. Ever since she returned, she's been forced to work ceaselessly; only she can pull the Twili Empire back together after the chaos Zant and Ganon spread, and she didn't intend to forgo that duty, no matter the cost. Yet, instead of helping her in bringing things back to order, the Houses have done nothing but impede her progress, almost as if they _wanted_ things to collapse. As if that wasn't enough, something strange has been happening to her since she returned. She didn't know if she contracted some sort of sickness while in Hyrule, or-

"The Houses Krasus and Volin are completely severed from communication. It seems they've destroyed the portals connecting their provinces to the Twilight Palace, and all attempts at recreating the portals have failed." The old Twili, almost perpetually detached, has a tremor of worry worming through his reedy voice. "The other three houses have assured us that they know nothing of what has happened, but... Might I have permission to speak freely, my Lady?"

Midna nods vehemently. "Of course you can, Ralu. Your input is always appreciated; you've served us loyally and truly for years."

Ralu clears his throat, his gaunt, chalky cheeks glowing blue. "This does look suspicious, but it could simply have been an accident. Might I suggest you wait a few days' time before taking action? If they send no emissary to inform us of their situation, then your suspicions will be confirmed, and the other Houses would have no excuse not to join you in investigating them."

Midna considers this. Old Ralu has never given her any reason to doubt his judgement, acting as an unofficial advisor to many monarchs before her. And, considering how the other Houses have been acting, he definitely has a point about making sure her case is solid; she has a funny feeling they would try anything they possibly could to avoid conflict with each other.

"Alright," she returns, "that seems the best course of action. But, just in case they do try anything, have the regional guard doubled for the next few days."

Ralu bows deeply, collects himself and makes for the exit to Midna's chamber.

The five Houses have always served the Royal Family loyally. Why are they acting up now, when the empire is in such critical condition?

Krasus, Volin, Hershel, Uric, and Kirov. Krasus and Volin, to the north, form the backbone of the Royal army. The very same army Zant twisted and abused, transforming them into those despicable Shadow Beasts. The other three, Uric, Hershel and Kirov, govern large territories of free floating land to the south and east, home to most of the Twili populace. Beyond all this, the Twilight Realm degenerated into abstract chaos; Midna's people settled where they could, forming what is now the Twili Empire.

Each province was split according to the leading family of the original settlers. Six of them; one for each family, or House, the central territory belonging to the Royal Family, direct descendants of the great "Interlopers", as they were called in Hyrule. Since the beginning all those centuries ago, they answered only to the Royal Family, and things were good.

But now? Since Zant sacked the place and deposed, for the first time, the monarchical bloodline, the Houses have shown themselves not only disrespectful, but all-out defiant of her. _Almost as if... _ It is unspeakable, but... _Could it be they were actually backing Zant in the first place?_

She almost shakes her head in reprise at her own paranoia. _That's just silly_, she thinks to herself, _there is no way they'd do something like that. Sure, they have trouble swallowing their pride and following orders, but to actually _betray _me like that?_

Then again, the only House leader she formally met was the leader of Krasus, and that was long before Zant's uprising.

He was unusual for a Twili.

Umro was his name. He looked distinctly more like the light-dwellers than your average Twilian, a trait he shared with few others, Midna being one of them. But what was so strange about him was not his appearance, but rather his effect on people. His tongue seemed to shape his words to fit the listener's ear perfectly; he was by far the most gifted speaker Midna had ever met. Compounding this skill was his voice. It seemed to coat the listener, lather them in thick, blinding fog. So smooth and inconspicuous it sounded, yet so sharply penetrating it truly was; his power of persuasion was a shadowy dagger down the spine of his audience, able to manipulate their minds without them even knowing it.

She should know; her election to the monarchy over Zant was due to this gift. Zant, her hereditary cousin, was supposed to be next in line for the throne. And he would have been, if not for Umro's intervention. His words lulled the House nobles into a virtual trance, somehow convincing them that a seventeen year old girl should take the throne over then twenty-two year old Zant. Even today she doesn't remember what he said. Whatever it was, it worked; she became the leader of the Twili, with a shell shocked Zant wandering out towards the balcony. _To find Ganon_, she now knows. Then, as if on cue, he cursed her and took control of the empire, effectively forcing the Houses to accept his authority. He then demanded Krasus and Volin to supply him with the soldiers that would become the invading Shadow Beasts.

At least, that's what their emissaries told her.

And now this. Both houses have somehow severed their connection to the Twilight Palace. She'll wait a few days, alright. But she has the strangest feeling that this was no accident.

* * *

"My lady," speaks Ralu, "we have a visitor. Lord Krasus has arrived, and seeks council. Shall I?"

This certainly surprises Midna. She was just one day away from paying them a visit.

"Do so."

The throne room is unusually brightly lit today.

Midna's vision has been grainy as of late. And her head feels like a cracked egg. And her voice has a slight rasp at the end of every sentence.

And to top it off, she feels as if she hasn't slept in weeks, even though she's been _oversleeping_ by hours.

Yet, the only thing she can do about it is to brighten the room enough as to stop her from dozing off in her throne.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _Whatever it is, she can't show any sign of weakness, especially not in front of Umro.

But it's not only her body that's sick. It's been getting harder and harder each day to get up and start her day, as if something is just pulling her back into bed. Things are looking bleaker; the palace walls are beginning to feel more and more like a constricting cage to her with each passing day.

She remembers how large and looming the palace seemed when she and Link first arrived. How full of creatures that, even though she grew up surrounded with their types, seemed so much scarier than she remembered. And yet he cut through them all, even those horrid Hands that Zant summoned to keep the Sols in his possession. They dealt with the most terrifying creatures imaginable, she and Link. Midna, always the quick thinker, whispered in his ear what she perceived, and he acted upon it without hesitation. He seemed so confident, so courageous. And so full of life. She told him she hid in his shadow because she was worried about someone seeing her, but that was a lie. She couldn't handle it. So much activity around her; Link was her only refuge from the chaos, her safe zone. Born and raised, alone, by zombie-like servants in the Twilight Realm, it was as if she was taken from a winter wasteland and thrust into an inferno.

She had no concept of 'friend'. Friendship didn't exist in the Twilight Realm, not in any true sense of the word.

Yet she changed, subtly, while Link went about his quest. She began to feel how he felt, see how he saw. Care how he cared. Seeds she didn't think existed grew under Link's warmth. The seed of compassion, of friendship.

Of love. The strangest, and perhaps the scariest, thing she ever felt. It grew slowly, ignored, until it became too strong to resist. It tore from her attention, distracted her even in the most crucial of times. Yet there it was, beyond affection, compelling her like a magnet. She felt every one of his wounds as her own, if not moreso than he himself did.

Then they won.

And she left him.

_See you later, I said_, she thinks with bitter derision. S_ee you later. That's how I summed us up. I should have just said it, instead of freezing up like a spineless worm. And now I'll never get the ch-_

"My lady, 'tis good to make your acquaintance again."

The words stop her in mid thought, as if she had dipped her hand in freezing water.

Before her kneels Umro Krasus, leader of House Krasus. He is completely hidden in the robes of Twili nobility; his hood casts a deep shadow over his pale, ashen face. The Twili symbol adorns both his front and back, and heavy, curved pauldrons mantle him.

"My apologies concerning the severance of our connection to the Twilight Palace. One of our younger mages-in-training accidentally closed it with a spell. He has been dealt with, and we are currently working on restoring the portal. As for House Volin, well, I know only what happened to our portal."

_How could he have known about Volin's portal being down, as well?_ "I see. And you took it upon yourself to deliver the message?"

He gives her a single, almost imperceptible nod. "I thought my Lady would prefer to hear it from her subject, personally. And I see my Lady is not well. I wish not to occupy too much of her majesty's time that could otherwise be devoted to recovery."

Her eyes flutter slightly, her hands going quickly to her temples to try and massage the headache away. "Yes, you may go. I thank you for your report."

He gives her another deep bow.

She doesn't even hear him leave.

_I think I will pay him a visit, after all, _she tells herself. _But first... Some rest._


	4. Unorthodox Solution

"Can you make any sense of what it is?" Asks Link, holding the shard extremely carefully for Renado to inspect. His house is empty; Link had specifically asked him to make sure he was alone when he brought his parcel.

"Hmm," he mutters, contemplating the alien object with detached curiosity. "You say you could see the Twilight Princess through this mirror shard?"

Link gives him a careful nod, holding the shard like a priceless treasure. "I could see her. She mentioned something about Houses, and trouble brewing in the Twilight Realm."

Renado pulls two chairs out, placing them opposite each other. He sits down on one, gesturing for Link to do the same. "Well, it shows there is still a connection to the Twilight Realm, albeit a very unorthodox one." He sighs deeply, looking Link in the eye. "I can see you're hopeful about this. Not only for a chance at some action, am I right? You've been troubled these last few weeks, since Ganon was defeated."

Link gives Renado a reluctant nod, wondering to himself how well the shaman could see through him. "It's been awhile since... Since anything's happened," he mutters, not willing to give up the ghost yet. "If there's something going on in the Twilight Realm, it could be Ganon resurfacing again."

Renado's gaze turns from compassionate to stern. "Let's stop dancing about, Link. You know what needs to be done with this."

Link had expected this. "You're suggesting we leave the Twili to deal with Ganon? _Alone?_"

Renado cuts him off there. "We don't even know if the trouble you spoke of has anything to do with Ganon. And even if it did, the Twilight Realm and Hyrule must remain separate. You know this."

"But Ganon-"

"No. The only way to protect ourselves from Ganon is to cut off any way of traveling through the Twilight Realm to Hyrule."

Link jumps up, holding the shard close to his chest. "I can't just abandon them," he says through gritted teeth.

"Calm yourself, Link. Think clearly for a moment. Your infatuation with that 'Twilight Princess' you spoke of is blinding your judgement." Renado's voice is sharp as a blade; it cuts right through Link.

"How did you know of my... Of Midna?" He falls back into his chair, shocked at Renado's insight.

He throws his hair back, as if to mock Link's lack of awareness. "Please, lad. It was how you spoke of her after your journey was done. I've lived a long time, seen many things come and go. Young love being one of them." He shakes his head in pity at Link's expression. "Whomever this twilight creature was, you need to realise that she is not one of us. The Twili cannot be trusted; they are not of this world."

At this, Link gets up and simply walks out. He doesn't need this. He _will_ find a way into the Twilight Realm, with or without his help.

A quick glance at the sky tells him that night is fast approaching, with tinctures of dusk already glowing against the western skyline.

That dreaded twilight is almost upon him, the very same he seeks. At the least, he wants to hear what she had to say before she left. He knows she was on the verge of something, but relented at the last second. _Why? Why would she do that,_ he wonders to himself, _when that was the very last chance to say something meaningful?_

It is deep into the night before he reaches home.

His Hylian ears perk; he senses a presence, something watching him.

Not a hostile presence.

But a presence nonetheless.

For the time being, he shrugs it off. He's strong enough to take care of himself. Besides, it's about the same time as last he looked in the shard and saw her; he hopes against hope that she keeps a strict schedule.

Laying the shard down in the same position as before, he pulls a chair close, sits down and waits. Soon enough, the mist begins to form on the surface, pulsing with the growing hum surrounding it.

The detail once again increases, and the familiar scene becomes as clear as if through a dirty window.

At first, nothing.

But them a new shape takes form; a shape Link can't decipher. It is a lump, of sorts. A small, moving lump.

But then the covers pull back.

It's Midna. At least, he _thinks_ it's Midna. She looks awful; Link is forcibly reminded of when Zant blasted her with the guardian's light magic. Her color was a very unique shade of blue and grey, but now she simply seems chalk white.

She pulls the covers around herself, shivering terribly. She has a look of such fright and sadness as to strike at Link, even across dimensions. She looks extremely weak, as if to collapse any second.

Yet she lifts a shaking hand, bringing her journal and quill to her from outside the shard's perspective, presumably from across the room.

Licking the tip of the quill, she once again guides the tools to her desk, directly in front of Link's view.

_**Entry four.**_

_**I have fallen right into Umro's trap. He mentioned Volin on purpose, to- **_

She lapses into a jagged coughing fit, nearly falling off her bed.

Deep red speckles dot her pale palm.

… _**To rouse my suspicions. He used my forced investigation of his manor as fuel to rally the other Houses. They've been working together the whole time, plotting against me; there is no denying it now.**_

_**I arrived at his manor to find both the Volin and Uric head-of-Houses. Umro convinced them that I secretly wanted to depose the Houses and bring about a direct rule. He had me removed from his manor, publicly declaring that he would never let the 'injustice' of my presence go unanswered, to the approval of the House representatives beside him. I left at that; my coughing started then, and I've been worsening since.**_

_**I blacked out twice on the way back, my entourage being forced to carry me much of the way home.**_

_**I give it a day, maybe two, before they declare civil war on me.**_

_**I... I've never felt so alone.**_

_**Ralu is nowhere to be found. Most of my guards have defected to the Houses, with the remaining few counting less and less with each day.**_

_**I'm so sick, I don't know how much longer I'll last.**_

What happens next shocks Link deeper than anything he had ever experienced previously.

She sniffs, her deep red eyes glistening against the half-light in her room.

Two tears glide make silent progress down her face in thin rivulets, following the delicate curve of her quivering mouth.

Midna is crying.

_**I wish... He was here.**_

That's as much as Link can handle. But he can't bear to look away, as if watching her could somehow keep her safe.

There's only one thing he can do. One thing he _must_ do.

He must return to the Twilight Realm.

And there was only one way of doing that.

Could it be possible that this shard can act the same way the Mirror of Twilight did?

Is it even remotely possible?

Only one way of finding out.

He looks back to the shard; Midna had lain down once more, shivering visibly under the black quilt. He can hear, at the edge of his field of sound, quiet sobbing.

He carries the shard with him into bed, propping it up beside him, keeping watch over her. He only fell asleep long after her shivering stopped, and her laboured breathing became more rhythmical.

So enthralled by this was he that he did not notice the pair of eyes hovering from behind his window.

A pair of very green eyes.

* * *

Link awakens to a refracted image of his own face; he had forgotten to put away the mirror before he fell asleep.

Doesn't matter.

What matters is the Mirror Chamber.

He needs to leave as soon as possible. He doesn't have time to waste.

Grabbing some semi-stale bread, he makes for the door, the shard hidden well under his tunic.

He drops down his ladder, turning on his heel to make for Epona.

He comes face to face with none other than Ilia, managing to look both very tired and very agitated at the same time, with a small dash of strange. "Where do you think _you're_ going at such an early time?"

He doesn't have time for this. He walks past her, to fasten Epona up for the journey. "Look, I'll tell you when I get back. It won't be long-"

"Doing something with that weird shard of yours?"

That freezes him in his tracks. "How... You..."  
"I saw you last night. That creepy thing was _talking_ to you!" A hard look at her face tells him she's being honest. Dark circles rim her eyes.

"You were spying on me? On _me_?" His blood is beginning to boil; nobody is going to stop him now, especially not Ilia. She shrinks from the anger in his voice, terrified at this sudden change.

"_Move!_" He roars, pushing past her to a disgruntled Epona. She trips, falling onto the dirt path with a loud _thump_. He mounts before she can stop him, dashing into Hyrule Field.

* * *

Once again, that zen moment of twilight is approaching. He finally made it to the Mirror Chamber, nearing the break of dusk.

He just hopes Midna is alright.

All the apparatus is still there, unchanged. Nobody has been up here, other than himself, since Midna's departure.

Walking over to the Mirror frame, he takes note of the deep grooves at the bottom; this must be how the mirror was positioned.

He places the small shard in that position, it barely coming up to half the Mirror's actual height.

He aims it as accurately as he possibly can at the black stone that should become the portal, if this actually manages to work.

_Now what? _ Thinks Link. _Ah, yes. Sages._

He turns around, spreading his arms to the sky.

"OH SAGES, I, THE GREAT HERO, CALL TO THEE! ARISE!"

… Nothing.

Link is beginning to sweat, now; if they aren't going to come, how the hell else would this work?

He thinks frantically back to what items he had on his journey.

The only one he can think of as even remotely useful in this case would be the Dominion Rod.  
_But what for? _He wonders to himself. _Well, the only way it works is through that small, green orb blasting out of it. Worth a shot, anyways._

He pulls it out, looking at it doubtfully.

Aiming it at the Twilight Mirror, he launches the green orb into it.  
To his utter surprise, it does indeed do something. The mirror shard, previously blank, seems to be drawing energy from it.

The Rod turns the colour of rust, indicating it's charge is gone.

The mirror is glowing a bright white; distorted symbols are rising out of it's center, unsymmetrical and random.

They impact the black rock, causing it to rumble and transform.

Something of a portal indeed forms, though nothing like what Link was used to. This one is crooked and triangular, with no clear indications as to how to enter it.

Without any other option, Link simply walks up to it.

A strange hissing sound is emanating from within, as if the rock itself is turning to steam.

That's about enough for him.

Link steps back from the portal, planning on rethinking his strategy.

Well, he would have.

But he can't.

Something is drawing him closer to the malformed portal, closer to the strange hissing; the force it exerts on him is stronger than anything he's felt before. He tries again to move his foot back, but it only slips closer forward.

Without warning, the pressure turns to all-out eruption, blasting him inwardly into the vertical pit.

His vision dies completely.

He smashes his head on something unimaginably strange feeling, blood gushing over his useless eyes.

His arms and legs are smashing into these 'things', whatever they may be, nearly breaking. He feels gashes and bruises all over his body, blood spurting up the back of his tunic.

The hiss transforms into a deafening roar, echoing inside his head like a bomb explosion.

Excruciating pain.

Unbelievable.

Beyond his sanity.

It's as if he is being crushed through a sinkhole, as if every bone in his body is being ground into dust.

Then it stops.

He hits a stone floor hard, cracking his head another good one. The concussion nearly blacks him out.

He looks up, wiping the dried blood out of his eyes, and sees a familiar room.

With a familiar occupant.


	5. The Revolution Incumbent

For a few minutes, he simply stares, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened.

The twilight surrounds him, particles fading into the air before his very eyes.

Just like before.

He takes a minute to survey his surroundings. A small, circular stone room. The living space he's become accustomed to, looking through the glass shard.

_The shard._

Link turns, frantically scouring the wall behind him for an opening.

He sees a large, archaic mirror, of the same texture and quality as the shard. It is dusty and prismatic, roughly reflecting a very bloodied and bruised Link. But that's not what catches him; his eyes immediately draw to the hole. It takes up a good quarter of the rectangular mirror, giving it an odd, overlapping shape.

But it's what's behind the broken section that puzzles him.

Nothing.

Simply nothing.

It's as if a black hole had been drawn in the exact shape of the mirror shard, imprinted into the wall.

An abscence of anything.

But Link learned his lesson; there's no way he's going near that hellish thing again.

His wounds are wide but not deep, clotting shortly after he hit the floor. But it certainly makes him look-

"Midna," he breathes. She is right there, only a few feet from him, sleeping like a pale doll.

Totally still, almost as if...

She coughs lightly in her sleep, bringing Link's blood pressure back down.

Her bed is simple but large, her covers all but encompassing her.

Link walks over and sits down on the foot of the bed.

Her hair is spilling across her face, covering it. He passes his hand over her, curling it around her ear.

She looked bad through the shard, but in person...

It's as if she's on her deathbed. She begins to shift, as if uncomfortable, her icy hand falling across Link's back. He takes hers into his own, feeling his warmth sink into her cold-

His heart catches in his throat.

Her eyes are opening.

They gleam like rubies, strong but in terrible distress. The pupils are dialated, unfocused.

They widen in utter shock when she recovers herself.

She mouths a silent _What? _to Link, completely at a loss for words. He responds by curling his arm around her alarmingly cold waist, lifting her into a sitting position.

She's in shock, her face stilled in an expression of complete disbelief.

Her hands, shaking and tentative, reach up to his still-bloodied face. She touches his cheek, as if to assure his reality. Her hands glide from his face to the back of his neck, pulling him into a shallow hug. He responds with much more vigor, embracing her tightly.

"You... Shouldn't be here," she manages to mumble through Link's tunic.

For awhile, they just sit there.

"Can't leave you for a second, can I," says Link.

"Guess not," she returns.

Link loosens his hold on her, holding her apart for a better look. She has a black toga on, covering most of her body, but he can tell just by her frailty that she's been losing weight. She leans into his shoulder again, starting to doze. He lets her, not knowing what else to do.

To his surprise, she pulls herself back into a sitting position, swaying only slightly. "Seems I caught something while we were goofing off in Hyrule," she says, pointing a trembling finger past Link. Another robe of hers flies neatly into her hand, which then hits the bed; she can't support it's weight in her weakened state. "Take this and wipe yourself off. You look like you had quite a tumble. How did you-" Link puts a finger to Midna's lips, shushing her. "You get some sleep," he whispers, laying her down, very gently, upon her bed. "I'll be here, waiting for you. OK?"

She gives him a slight nod, in no condition to argue the point. He pulls the covers around her, tucking them closely about her sides.

Watching her until her breathing became less erratic and more rhythmical, he then turns to the mirror.  
_Gods, I look like a bullbo ran over me._ His forehead is caked with blood, as are his sides. Simply using his hands, he chips away at it like a mason chips stone.

After the painful process is done, he looks almost normal; that is, if not for the bloodstains he couldn't wash off.

The one thing Link can't understand is the fact that it doesn't hurt. Not as if the wounds closed up quickly, but rather as if they weren't there at all.

_Twilight_, he shrugs, thinking no more of it.

His primary focus is Midna.

One thing is clear. He needs to get her out of the Twilight Realm.

Zelda will know what to do.

_Missing one thing, champ. How the hell do you get out of this lovely little dimension?_

Well, he certainly isn't going back the way he came; that nearly knocked _him_ out, let alone Midna in her condition.

_At least she looks like she's stable, now_, he thinks, allowing himself some minor relief.

He glances over to her, just to make sure. And, sure enough, she's sleeping quietly, if not shallowly.

_Well, I'll have to wait until she wakes up_, he concludes. _Then I'll ask her if there's any possible way to get back._

He walks over to her bed, sitting back down on the foot. Bunching her robe up into a makeshift pillow, he sets himself into a sitting position beside her. If anything goes wrong, he'll be the first to know about it.

But his body has other plans. His vision begins to droop, his senses mingling together.

Before he can stop himself, he drifts.

* * *

He awakens to a deep warmth on his side and chest, and a most curious pressure against his leg and arm.

Opening his eyes, he finds his vision obscured by thick, orange hair.

Midna is uncomfortably close, pressing against his right side, hugging him like some form of Twili teddybear.

_Uncomfortable? Am I crazy? _On the contrary, Link is _very_ comfortable. She's looking better, too; some of her colour has returned, and she's not shivering anymore.

_Well of course she's not, between you and the covers_, he reminds himself.

He's not covered by it, but that's fine with him; he doesn't want to get _too_ warm.

He'll just sit like that for awhile; farbeit for him to disturb such tranquility.

Come to think of it, though, he is feeling a bit odd, himself.

Just a little bit weaker than he usually does. Not by much, though.

But still... _Bah, I worry too much,_ he thinks to himself. _Just rest for awhile. You've certainly earned it-_

Without provocation, Midna bursts into violent coughing fit, speckling Link's chest with bright red blood.

Jolted awake, she takes just a moment to readjust; as soon as she lays eyes on Link she calms down.

"Are you alright?" This blood business is concerning him immensely. What kind of ailment could possibly sicken her so?

She gives him a glum nod, tucking her head into the nook between his arm and chest.

"We need to get out of here," she says. "How did you get back into this realm? Maybe we can-"

Link cuts her off. "No can do. That shard off your mirror was my way in. But there's no way we're taking you through there, not in your condition."  
She falls silent, cuddling closer to him.

"You know any other ways out?" He inquires. He knows they can't sit here forever, but Midna is making it extremely hard for him to continue; her being so close makes thinking damn near impossible.

Once again, they fall silent, the only sound coming from the ShadowKargarocs flying outside.

Link is about to drift off again when Midna speaks. "There... Might be one way. Maybe. Probably not, but..." Link has no idea what she means, but her unsure expression worries him. "If we use one of the Sols, we may- and this is a very small may- be able to power the portal you so kindly blasted into my wall to expand enough for both of us to fit through comfortably. We could use the remainder of my mirror as a conduit of sorts."

Now his interest is piqued. "So you need a Sol, then? And whereabouts would I find one of those?" Last he remembered, they were outside the palace's main platform. Should be a pretty simple task to go in, grab it and-

"Not so fast," she said, reading his face. "The guards who used to patrol my courtyard kept the Kargarocs away, but now they're... Gone. Chances are you'll be attacked as soon as you set foot outside."

Being the genius he is, Link left his Ordon sword at the house before he left, caught up as he was with getting here in the first place. Without anything to defend against them with, they'll tear him to shreds.

"That's why I'm going with you. I can provide-"  
"Whoa," Link interrupts, "that is not happening. Not in your condition."

"I'd give you about 30 seconds before those things eat you alive, give or take," she quips in return. Her eyes are set, her mouth in stubborn line. There's no way he's leaving without her, not without hell to pay.

Link sighs. "Fine. Can you walk?"

She shoots him a redundant look. "Uh, levitation?"

"Oh... Right." Link's eartips turn slightly red; of course she can levitate, as she has for the majority of the time he has known her. _How could I forget something like that?_ He wonders, noticing for the first time his lack of focus.

He motions for the stone corridor leading out of the room, distractedly, while Midna slides her cloak back on.

* * *

The plan is finally in motion. Umro really didn't think it would be so easy; usually such intricate plots are foiled by the most innocuous of things.

Yet here he is, organising the entire army of the Twili Empire for a coup d'etat of the monarchy.

For agonising months he has waited for this day, _his_ day, whilst playing his mental chessmatch against fate itself.  
And here it finally is.

He is upon the balcony of his ancestors, overlooking the Twili Army he will soon command into battle. Each soldier is armed to the teeth in serrated black iron, each wielding a strong, ebon blade shadowforged in the deep clefts of Krasus and Volin's territory. He himself is clad for war; his pauldrons have been similarily reinforced with plated black iron, his cloak of virulent nightshade hiding his fully plated body armor.

He turns and walks back into the balcony's inner chamber lit with familiar, cold energy.

In his plated right hand lies a sheathed masterpiece of metalwork and black magic, perhaps the greatest weapon ever borne of the forge. He had it commissioned specifically for this occasion.

The Harbringer.

Yes, the Harbringer is a most appropriate name for this terrible blade, an unholy amalgamation of fused shadow and pure black steel.

He can feel it's power through the intricate scale-woven scabbard as almost a calling. A dark thirst permeats the blade. A thirst for royal blood.

But that shall not be its first victim, no; he needs to deal with the other Houses. Their use now expended, he has little need for them.

He will march soon, yes. Very soon. But first, Volin and Uric must die.

And he has arranged this. All according to plan.

In fact, the next phase shall be put into motion in approximately thirty seconds.

Right on the dot, he hears footsteps behind him.

"Krasus, you wish to speak with us?" A rusty voice, full of holes. Volin, of course.

Turning, he sees Volin, tall and weathered, with that tiny, wrinkled coward Uric behind him.

"Yes," smiles Umro. "I have a new blade here. Would you like to see it?"

The two shift uncomfortably, unsure as to how to respond. He unsheathes it slowly, enjoying the oily, red glint it gives off. "This will be the blade to execute our resident tyrant, Lady Midna. Is it not magnificent?"

"Tis quite the blade," the squeaky voice of Uric replies, eyeing the weapon with fearful suspicion. "But," asks Volin, "what of the agreement we had? We will form a republic, correct?"

A republic, indeed. Yes, a union of sorts. At least, it has the pretence of such.

"Of course, old friend, of course. But I have a problem, you see." He gives the blade a twirl, watching the refracted, red glint dance about the room. "This revolution we are embroiled in, this civil war of sorts, will not succeed in our favour if our will is divided."

Volin, never the quick one, takes a moment to process. Uric, on the other hand, knows right away what he is implying. "This is supposed to be a republican revolution," he chimes indignantly. "Are you saying we defer to _yet another_ monarchy? This is madness!"

"Your deference is not what I mean, my friend. Not in the least." He responds, a fated chill pervading his smooth words.

As soon as they hear the door shut behind them, they understand their fate.

Volin has time to glance to the door and back before the blade decapitates him, his withered head blasting backwards, spurting Uric with black blood.

Uric attempts to scream, but too late; he feels his lungs explode, flooding his throat with gushing, foaming blood. He looks down to see the blade, black and hateful, deep inside his chest. The blood gushes down his chest and face, saturating the floor a deep, black puddle.

He dies quickly, hemorrhaging oily blood at an unnatural rate.

Umro is duly impressed. The thin blade, lightweight and unassuming, is far sharper than he anticipated.

Midna will certainly be spared much suffering, if Uric's death serves as any testament to the Harbringer's brutal efficiency.

But that will have to wait. He has other matters to attend to; he is not one to leave a job only half finished.

* * *

Much to Link's surprise, Midna manages to work her way down the dark, roomy fortress that is the Twili Palace with little difficulty. In fact, there were times when Link had to scramble to catch up to her. _She's certainly looking better_, Link remarks to himself. _Could it have been psychological all along?_

As if in answer, Midna's coughing erupts again, forcing Link to catch her in mid-levitation to stop her from hitting the floor. _ So much for that theory._

They finally reach the doorway. Link peers out, scanning the twilit sky for enemies. He manages to count at least a dozen of the flying abominations circling the palace, easily within sight of the two Sols lying in the courtyard.

"I'll make a dash for one. You cover me with whatever you can," Link says, trying valiantly to sound as brave as possible, sounding like a complete idiot in his ears.

But Midna simply nods, concentrating energy into her palms.

* * *

Utilising the secret portals he formed with the aid of his fellow House conspirators, Umro travelled to the manors of Kirov and Hershel with a handpicked troupe of elite soldiers and deputies. Butchering every resident of the manors, he installed a puppet governor in each House, to maintain the illusion of autonomy to the Twili living nearby.

All within a few hours.

Alas, such a task might have seemed daunting to most, but he knows the Twili better than even they know themselves.

They are a shrunken race, a race of apathy incarnate.

And he knows why. Tis the very same reason Midna was as sick as she was, last he saw the poor fool.

And, of course, the guiding force behind his ascension to power. He has to leave this place, he _must_, if he is going to survive to see the to the end of this all. The effect of the Twilight Realm is much slower to act upon those not touched by light, but effect them it does nonetheless, through generations of exposure.

The realm itself is poison. A slow acting toxin is the pervasive, everlasting twilight, a venom that kills only in the latent phase of life, striking the old and weary with physical and mental corrosion. The very same that Lady Midna suffers right now, if Umro's hypothesis is correct.

The Twilight Realm is a concentration camp forged by the Goddesses themselves, designed to seal away and degrade an entire civilization that dare challenge their authority. Their own private hell, where passion and emotion wither and die like flowers before eternal darkness...

But he dare not dwell upon the past, as that path leads only to madness.

No; he must focus on the task at hand, and see to it that the plot continues unabated.

With this phase complete, he returned to his own manor, preparing his army for the march onto the Palace.

Does he need the army? Not at all. The Lady's guard is all but gone, the fools getting smart and running before he descends upon her. But such a display of power would go far to demonstrate his authority, and perhaps dissuade any dissident parties from acting against him.

Yes, that will do very well.

"Comrades, today is a grand step for our establishment. We will eliminate the monarchical system once and for all, and form a grand Republic. Then will the Light Dwellers feel our wrath once more!"


	6. The Great March

And so they march.

Watching the procession of levitating legions, Umro cannot deny the pride burning within him. Out of the ash and fallout of Zant's havoc he brought forth these mighty, disciplined armies. Of course, Zant's folly was all according to plan, as was Ganon's subsequent possession of him. But still, the actual act of reforming the army back into shape after breaking the curse Zant put upon them is no deed to be scoffed at.

He observes this, high above them, in a personal carriage held aloft by two mighty Shadow Kargarocs. Another personal commission, of course; most would consider such luxury as a personal carriage to be lavish, especially considering he himself can levitate just as easily.

But he has it not for the sake of convenience. No, it serves a much greater purpose. It is not for him to see the soldiers, but rather for they to see him. If the plan is to progress any further, he must build a cult of infallibility. He must become the supreme authority, utterly unquestionable.

But this will likely not be a problem. The Twili are, as he has observed, an utterly servile race. No fault of their own, of course; the Twilight Realm does this to a soul, Twili or otherwise.

He has felt it himself, though much more subtly. A feeling of sloth, of laziness. The personification of the slug, a slow, gradual recession into the hollow depths of a dead spirit.

He must reconquer the overworld and put an end to his people's suffering, even if it be at the cost of their own blood.

Yet how will he return to Hyrule? Well, he had that part figured out long before the events following Zant's death came to fruition. Yes... The solution to the dilemma. Even then, that solution lay with Midna, dashed as she was of her true form. He watched her progress across a Hyrule bathed in sickening twilight as she searched for a means of overthrowing Zant.

And find it she did. He watched her as she brought the boy across Hyrule, fighting back the twilight in a delicious twist of irony.

As he watched them grow closer, he formulated the means of returning there once Zant was overthrown. He saw, under cover of pure shadow, the look in both their eyes as they watched each other while the other looked away. Through this bond he saw the means of exploitation... It was all so simple. He had investigated Midna's mirror while Zant was marauding across Hyrule and his minions were being siphoned into dozens of portals leading to different locations in Hyrule.

He had known of it's power since long beforehand, by word of mouth. That it was made of the same material as the mirror residing in Hyrule was astounding, but that it had the very same runes inscribed upon it? He didn't even fathom this kind of luck. The fact that it was broken fazed him only momentarily; under the presumption that the same rules applied as did they with the Mirror of Twilight, this very same mirror could only be fragmented, not destroyed. He reasoned that the Royal Family could not have had it, or they would have repaired it long ago. He had also considered Royal Family's relationship with the Houses, and whom exactly might have taken the shard after the dispute with the Hyrulean Royal Family all those years ago. He knows that Midna's Mirror had broken due to the conflict of them sending criminals through the gate via a direct connection between the two mirrors, and that the mirror had a similar stand and altar as the Hyrulean mirror. Then the mirror was fragmented on this side to stop them from using the connection between worlds as a dimensional dump site for their condemned. Then they found that cursed block of Twilian black iron, and used that as a conduit instead.

How they found it, he doesn't know, nor does he know why they stopped using the portal even after they found it; those days were long past, before the legend of the Hero of Time even existed, and passed only as ancient lore and rumour among the crumbling, dilapidated elders.

After weeks of silent, hidden investigation, he narrowed the list down to only a few suspects: Ralu, Midna's former head servant; Klacid, the former leader of House Kirov; and of course Zant himself.

He eliminated Klacid quickly; the poor fool suffered a _most_ unfortunate (and believable) accident amid the chaos Zant was spreading, after which Umro managed to read into the House's archives himself.

He found no evidence of the House hiding anything, though he did find a most interesting document entitled 'Article of Secession'. Reading into it, he discovered the true plans of the three Houses to the south and east of the palace.

They indeed wanted to secede from the empire, and planned to do so following Zant's assumed victory.

_Such tools_, he had thought to himself when he read this. _Such utterly gullible tools_. He knew exactly what to do to progress the plan further, and that was to form a coalition between the Houses against the monarchy. Once power was shifted, he would then 'remove' the opposition, and install himself as absolute commander of the forces of the Twilight.

He had read 'United Republic' in the notes. He knew then what he would call it.

The United Republic of the Twili.

The Twili Republic.

But the fact still remained that he needed an alternative link to the Twilight Realm. That shard still remained to be found, and only Ralu or Zant could possibly have it.

But, soon enough, he eliminated Ralu from the list.

Only Zant could have taken the shard. The only possible place he could have hidden such an artifact is within the palace itself, he knew that much.

And, as usual, he was correct. In fact, his elimination of Ralu as a potential possessor of the shard and his discovery of said shard happened at the same time, as the two went hand in hand.

He found a sympathiser in the most unlikely of places and positions. The old Twili proved himself far more capable than even he, Umro, surmised.

Thus the shard was his, and he placed it well. Right under the noses of those foolish Sages, in fact, shortly before the defeat of Ganon.

He can only hope that the next phase of his plan will be completed by the time he arrives at the palace.

At any rate, the army is his, and there still remains of his forces a champion untested.

* * *

Link blasts out of the cover of the doorways with lightning speed; all to soon, the demonic creatures begin to pursue him, cutting the wind with black wings and unnatural trumpets.

The first two go straight for Link as soon as he is visible. Midna blasts one of them out of the sky with a dark orb of Twili magic, smashing it into the other, causing both to crash down onto the ground in a gust of eruptive fog.

The third actually managed to rake his back, cutting deep grooves into the muscle and further tearing his clothes. Link turns like lightning, grabbing the thing's talons and forcing it down under him. He then forces all his weight on the creature, crippling it.

Running before it's thrashing talons could further harm him, he nears the luminous Sol on the right, glinting like a hidden treasure in the wispy shadows.

He makes a dive for it, half the light powering the lifts on the right side of the courtyard fading like snuffed candles. Once more, Midna blasts one of the beasts, sending it flying over his head and down into the abyss.

But then, something most unusual happens. The Kargarocs, who had up until then been bleating and moaning their strange horns to the skies, simply went silent.

Completely silent.

Link turns his eyes up, scanning overhead. Not a single bird lay in the twilit skies, deformed or otherwise. And with absolutely no explanation as to why.

Midna levitates over to him. She noticed this phenomenon first, almost right after the last bolt was thrown; they all simply flew off to the south.

They both turn their eyes to the north, peering into the deep regions of the skies, attempting to make sense of this. A distant, black cloud dominates the far landscape, making it difficult to discern-

"That's no cloud," says Midna, interrupting Link in mid thought. Her face is hollow, once again shocked to the core. He doesn't know what she means by this; it's too distant to see properly, but the simple fact that it's large and dispersed should be enough-

His thoughts freeze, understanding what he sees but unable to comprehend it.

* * *

In the far horizon he sees the Palace, empty and looming. He is toying with the thought of destroying it altogether; he intends to have his seat of power firmly grounded in the overworld, so he really has no need for it. But then again, if he plans on keeping the war industry flowing, he will need a bureaucratic center. His standing force numbers in the thousands, but he is sure it alone won't suffice for his plans. Besides, he had many a Twili worked to death forging his weapons and the weapons of the legions, all of which could have been curbed with proper management. No, he will keep the palace as a both a strategic advantage and a testament to his domination.

And then comes the plan for invasion. As it might appear, his carriage is simply there as an example of his superiority, but this is not entirely true. Yes, the purpose is for the army to see him in the sky as something beyond them, worthy of their attention and respect, but it also serves as a method of distraction.

He jumps up out of the carriage and fades from view using his particular brand of shadow magic, gliding deftly across the skies, heading towards the Palace. There is no room for error; he must know for sure whether the boy succeeded in returning here. He knows the brat is clever enough to piece the shard and the Mirror of Twilight together, especially due to it's unusual gift of broadcasting what's in front of the remainder of the mirror. This was the main reason for the mirror to have been locked away in the cellars of the Palace for so long, only to be conveniently found by none other than Midna herself, who just so happened to have caught wind of the mirror's power and age.

Of course, this was all due to Umro's careful plucking of connections, as if playing a delicate medley on a harp.

But this all stands on his analysis of the boy and Midna's relationship; all assumptions, all liable to backfire completely on him.

If the boy is not there, his entire plan is forfeit. If Midna herself is not there, his entire plan is forfeit.

So many tendrils that need only be shaken for his quest to be brought to a sudden halt.

But if they are both there... There will be only one thing they will attempt at this point, and that is exactly what he is hoping for.

This standing force, this army that now lies behind him, their presence is also serves two meanings; they are not only his blade and fist, but his colonization force. When the portal is controlled, the next phase will be set into motion-

Kargarocs drift about him, circling the ancient courtyard of the Palace lazily. They seem to be eyeing a dot on the distant ground. Shooing them telepathically, he drifts down to get a better look.

It is just as he hoped.

Perfect.

There, right before him, both Midna and Link stand, completely unaware. They are occupied with the disappearance of the birds, both scanning the skies intensely.

The boy has in his hands a Sol. _So they are indeed going to try and reopen the portal using the energy of the Sol_, Umro observes with casual interest. He hoped for as much as the portal simply remaining as a residual force, but if these two manage to get it running? All the better.

With this knowledge, he makes his way back to the carriage.

His army should be at their doorstep in a few minutes, which should give them enough time to attempt what they are planning on trying.

Then, the next phase of the plan will be executed.

The second invasion of Hyrule.


	7. Story of Durm

Durm is confused.

Only a few days ago he was working by his village's quarry, mining chunks of black iron for the smithies to use.

Now that very same type of iron is strapped to his chest, arms and legs, shaped in the flat disc of a shield he is holding, and sharpened into a razor-like blade hanging by his side.

He's still trying to ground this immediate change of surroundings and circumstances; things catch on slowly with most Twili as they age, and Durm is no exception, though he is only out of Young Age. He remembers an elder, quaky and tremulous, mentioning something of some value a few days even before that. Something to do with change... It was something somewhat important, at least to him.

Elders are the oldest of Twili, progressing through Great Age into the Quiet. As they grow closer to the Quiet, they begin to drift more and more often; this becomes more frequent in the waning years of Great Age, until they enter a drift they never return from. This is when they reach and become the Quiet. The Quiet exist as the rock does, drifting eternally, until they simply waste away into nothingness.

The elder he saw was caught between the stages of drifting and awake, his old, red eyes glazed but sentient. He had muttered something in passing to him, something of a 'change'. "_There will a change be, man of New Age. A change that men of New Age will come the by, and join the new king in light and blood,_" was what he said, stumbling onward in a broken line toward nowhere in particular. The Twili was very old, likely entering the Quiet, so Durm had paid little heed.

But now he thinks he understands.

Durm was simply quarrying with the others of New Age, enjoying their subtle presence as he clove stone from metal with his crude pickaxe, when two large men of Middle Age came to recruit them. They were armed in the same kind of gear he himself is now armed with.

Being that they were of an older Age than he was, he had to acknowledge them with a bow and deference. But they were curt. "_You, men of New Age. Come with us, you are to fight with Lord Krasus,_" was what they had told him. He took it at that and followed them, not knowing what to think. The other three men he was with followed in suit with meek expressions.

... But that is all he can remember. Things get hard to remember the sooner they occur with Durm. With most Twili. And this gap grows until all you can remember is the past, and the present is a constant nebula, is what the elders have told them. This is what it means to drift.

And he himself is drifting now, he realises, a bout of nausea and distaste running through him like oil.

Now he is levitating across the great nothingness that is the Twilight in a strict formation of a legion division. He doesn't remember how he learned this, but he doesn't care; action keeps the Quiet away, was the old mantra of the elders. When they were aware, at least.

So here he floats, drifting in his own right, driven to wherever this Lord Krasus intends him to go.

As far as he can tell, they are moving toward the Twilight Palace, to do something.

He knows there was excitement in the north, but that is all he knows; like most Twili, he finds matters of distant lands increasingly less important, whether those lands are sovereign to him or not. Like most Twili, he finds sleep preferable to the squabblings of other regions. Too much trouble to worry about, when he could simply dream away his time.

But all that matters little at this point. He must remain in the here and now, hard as it may be to do so. This task will provide some meaning... For awhile, anyways.

Already some new experiences to think of. The feel of metal against his flesh, the curious sense of isolation despite being surrounded by hundreds of his own kind. The silence.

Ah yes, the silence is indeed palpable. Thousands of soldiers, probably all of New Age like Durm is, maybe some into Middle Age, all levitating across the wasteland in utter silence.

Not a pin drop amid the dusky clouds.

In the ancient legends that pass through the Twili tribes, it was once spoken of that there was another world that they came from, a world full of devastation and torment. It was said that the Goddesses themselves took pity on the Twili, sealing them inside what is now known as the Twilight Realm to remain in tranquility for all time, eternally growing and fading into the Quiet, drifting among the clouds forever.  
This is the myth, anyways. A myth that really doesn't matter. Not to Durm, anyways. Durm is, like most Twili, tired; he exists for existence's sake, without causality or reason, just continuing and continuing until the Quiet takes him.

There he goes, drifting again.

The clouds are restless, growing and reshaping above them, casting half-light and perpetual shadow onto the apathetic masses...

… For a moment, he forgets what he is doing. _The recruit, the march, yes_, he recalls with agonizing difficulty, perceiving his own growing strangeness. The strangeness grows with the advancement of Age, as does the drifting; the strangeness makes him forget, makes him think in strange ways.

It is, as far as he can tell, a trait in all Twili; he has yet to meet an exception.

Well, not meet, not in the traditional sense.

To be honest, he has never 'met' anyone, and he doubts if any of the Twili around him are any different. Twili simply do not engage. They move about each other, feel each other's presence, but never speak for the sake of speaking.

The reason for this is simple: There is simply no need to.

The Twili need not learn of each other, for they will simply forget in a bout of strangeness or lose it when they enter the Quiet. The lack of need is based on the same principle as the lack of need for feeling warmth; it became something of an impedance, a vestigial trait that was no longer required. Therefore, as the Twili lost their will to speak, they lost their will to feel temperature.

It is the way of things.

… Then again, not all Twili are like this, of this Durm is sure. He knows those above, those that are of the Houses or of the Royal Family, still maintain some of these traits. He knows not why, only that they do. Could it be that it helps them in some way?

Durm doubts this.

He feels a gust flow by him, which catches his attention; there is no wind in the Twilight Realm, not of any significant strength, which likely means something flew past him. Then again, he cannot see anything. He is in the farthest front left of the first division moving forward, after all. If something flew by him, he could certainly have spotted it.

But what would have need to fly by him? Nothing he could think of. The Twilight Realm is devoid of most life, only that which is created by those that still knew some of the old ways and the Kargarocs that supposedly had come across when the Goddesses spared them.

The old ways. They had existed long ago among the Twili, from what the elders had managed to tell him. Magic, is what they had called it. Magic of the old ways. It was once something of common practice among the Twili, though it died out shortly after the time of the sealing. Something within the twilight sapped an internal power, it seemed; the knowledge had remained but the actual power simply left the later generations. When the last of the practitioners of the old ways reached the Quiet, the Twili simply moved on.

Of course, those above, those that are of the Houses or of the Royal family, are said to still control this 'magic'. But to the people of the Twilight Realm, the Twili, it is a lost art. They can only levitate, a trait left behind it seems.

He can see the Twilight Palace in the distance now, a vague dot on the horizon. He is somewhat impressed at it's height; it seems to pierce the veil of dark clouds, rising, a black spire amidst a sea of orange and grey.

Somewhat impressed, but only for a fleeting moment. Like most Twili, Durm feels like the rocky islands they float over, emotion like the dead wind against them; simply not there.

The Twili are untouched by the feelings of light and dark. They faded the same way the other traits faded. Emotion became a hindrance, as there was no day or night to account. Everything, everywhere, remained unchanged. There was no summer, winter, spring nor fall; these were simply memories passed on by elders.

Memories. Sometimes, Durm thinks he remembers... But it is just a bout of strangeness. He thinks he had... He cannot remember the names, but it was when he was within the Young Age. They had brought him, was the term they used. Then they went strange and forgot him.

Then he went strange and forgot them.

It was as if it never happened. Then, some time ago, he began to remember them. One was short, the other was quite tall. That was all he could recall, if that could even be considered recollection; it could simply be a manifestation of his growing strangeness...

Here he goes, drifting again.


	8. Escape

They see it, but they cannot believe it.

Massive legions far larger than any he has seen before, marching toward them. Not marching... Levitating.

_In other words, these are Twili_, thinks Link. _And by the looks of it, far from friendly._

As if that wasn't enough, Midna is beginning to fail again, struggling once more to remain aloft. "Midna?" He calls, not taking his eyes from the miles-long force making their slow way toward them. "What... What is going on here?"

"Umro's death squad," she responds breathlessly. "Grab that Sol now. We need to power up the mirror in my room and get going before they get here."

Giving her a curt nod, he reaffirms his grip on the Sol and moves back toward the door. "I guess there's no time for field tests, eh?"

Midna shakes her head, pacing him with some effort. "They'll be killing us, that's for sure. So it's either certain death over yonder or highly probable death through that bloody mirror," she returns, not one for games.

Link can respect this. Besides, this is one of those times where the path is extremely straightforward. Grim, for sure, but there's no gimmicks to this; it either works or it doesn't. It's a faint hope, but a hope nonetheless, that they can somehow fire up that old mirror. _But how the hell will we do that,_ Link wonders to himself, at a complete loss as to how this will work. He can only hope Midna knows what she's doing. And hope that she stays alive long enough to do what she knows; she's looking as if she'll drop any minute, and Link doesn't know if he'll be able to carry both the Sol and her.

Finally, they reach Midna's room again. Able to hold herself no longer, Midna crumbles to the ground. Link drops the Sol and catches her before she hits the floor hard, the Sol rolling off near the broken mirror.

She's looking as pale as a trauma victim, as if the short climb drained her like a vampire. She gives a weak cough, once again spotting her palm with rich, ruby blood.

Link doesn't know what to make of this. Given that they survive the trip back, will she even be able to make it to the nearest medical place? On that point, isn't she the one who had the whole Sol plan in the first place? Link has no clue what to do with the bloody thing. All he remembers is that it shines, provides light. He still has his tools with him, albeit minus a sword and shield, maybe there's something there that he can-

"Lay me against the wall, and put the Sol on the dresser, right in front of the mirror," whispers Midna, fighting to keep her eyes open. Her lips have turned a delicate shade of pale blue, tinted with an almost unidentifiable touch of light purple. Her skin is both moist and cool to the touch, her pulse faint and difficult to detect. Nevertheless, Link does what she asks, grabbing the Sol with some difficulty after she is comfortably positioned against the wall.

"Okay," she breathes, "now I need you to step away from the Sol. Go to the window and tell me how close that army is."

He does what she asks, looking out of the window. To his shock, the army is close enough to scrutinise individual details; they'll be here within a few minutes at the most.

Midna concentrates the last of her energy into a roiling dark orb, similar to the one she used to break his chain as a wolf, when he first met her.

She sends the orb flying at the Sol, smashing into it at a blurry speed; they both shatter simultaneously, bringing the runed mirror to life at once. The featureless hole on Midna's wall grew in size until it fit the shape of the mirror, which was glowing far stronger than the Sol had. Runes blast all around them, igniting the room with fierce light.

Far below them they hear a small explosion, and the shattering of iron and wood. _They're here_, thinks Link desperately, giving Midna a worried glance. She is out again, somehow dozing amid all the chaos. The marching feet are audible now; the soldiers have stopped levitating.

Link scoops an alarmingly cold Midna into his arms and makes for the newly formed portal, still fluctuating and pulsing with the rhythm of the background hum.

No other choice.

He has to jump in.

_Here goes nothing_ is his last thought before the swirling darkness takes him.

* * *

Umro feels grand. Not just good, not just great, but grand. It's of those few moments in a life when one feels absolute satisfaction at a plan gone perfectly.

Wonderful. Fantastic.

Grand.

Before him lies the gateway to his future, to the future of all Twili, so kindly opened for him by those two stupid, unwitting teenagers.

"It seems the harlot queen has made a quick escape to Hyrule with the help of some fool," says he, every word saturated with cool, detached arrogance. He gestures two bulky Twili over to him. "You two, round up the legions we've mustered so far. Organise them into a single file line. We will be entering a world we thought we would never see again." They grunt in response, shuffling off to herd the forces like cattle.

Yes... Just grand. They will be establishing a base camp around the mirror on the other side, with the excuse of trying to find the princess to 'bring her to justice'. If his assumptions are correct, the Hyrule Royal Family will try to shelter her and the boy, which will give Umro ammunition to attack Hyrule directly.

Of course, most of this is simple gesturing. He doesn't really need to worry about the opinions of the Twili; they are even more detached and apathetic than even he had thought. Surely, the very act of marching the entire armies of both Houses Krasus and Volin, along with more than just a few conscripts from the other three Houses to capture one person would seem nothing less than absurd to the average viewer. Yet, in contrast, the Twili never question. He just hopes their apathy doesn't continue on the battlefield.

Of course, even if every soldier in his arsenal were to die, he still has his champion. Yes, indeed; his champion. He granted his most loyal follower immense power the same way he granted power to the blade that hangs at his side; through a reforging, of sorts.

His champion resides as yet another soldier to the naked eye, but this is just a facade. It will have to remain so for now, until he can properly colonise Hyrule; if the plan commences as it should, his champion will become the face of the invasion.

A true genius never shows his face to the enemy. No, that would be a great mistake indeed. If he is to succeed, he must become that of myth, the mighty fist of the Twili. Anything less would be an affront to what he will construct.

When Hyrule is in his grasp, the final phase will commence. Then, and only then, will the Twili truly become a 'republic'. A republic indeed, with He, the mighty Umro, as it's patron deity.

Of course, that will not be the end.

No, there is never an _end_.

He has succeeded in doing the improbable, the implausible.

To become what he intends to become, he will have to do the impossible.

… But why dwell on the future? Before him, in the shape of this tiny portal, there is an entire world ripe for domination.

* * *

Link hits the ground hard, smashing his nose hard enough to draw blood. Midna is luckier, landing on top of him with a light thud.

The Hylian moon rides high in a cloudless night sky, swimming amidst the endless sea of glittering stars. Epona whinnies loudly, evidently happy to see the return of her master. Link gets up slowly, catching an unconscious Midna before she slides off his back.

He lifts her onto Epona's saddle before getting on himself. Epona, unused to the extra weight, fidgets uncomfortably. "You'll have to deal with it, girl," Link whispers to her as he straps himself in. Midna is seated in front of him, held securely between him and Epona's saddle. Giving a quick glance around, he fires Epona into a run, racing down the steps of the prison's Mirror Chamber as fast as she will let him.

He hears the faintest impacts against the sand behind him, but spares no thought to it; he has to get Midna to... To where? His rude exit on Renado was somewhat uncalled for, and Link doubts he would be too happy to see who he has to treat. The doctor in Castle Town, maybe? _Bah, that crackpot couldn't treat a Zora, let alone a Twili_, thinks Link, frustrated; he's quickly running out of people who could have the remotest chance of helping Midna, and he has no clue what he'd do if he doesn't find anyone.

_Well, I suppose Renado's the only one on hand that could help immediately,_ resigns Link._ There is Zelda, but I doubt I could get Midna through Castle Town without more than just a few odd looks, especially with the rumours about the Twili circulating around._

So, Link's best shot is Renado's place. He just has to hope the shaman doesn't hold grudges.

* * *

He arrives well after midnight, enjoying how cool the air feels through his hair. Even though he's been gone only a day, maybe two, he feels like an imprisoned man tasting freedom for the first time in decades; he can't even fathom how the Twili dealtwith living in their accursed realm without devolving into utter insanity. Hyrule seems to be having the same effect on Midna; her colour has returned, and her body feels much warmer. She's beginning to stir, a good sign in his book. But he's already at Renado's place, so Link might as well see if he can speed her recovery.

Cupping Midna once again in his arms, he knocks on the door. Luda answers, her quizzical look immediately becoming a startled gasp.

She guides the two in quickly, directing Link to the nearest bed. He lays Midna down gently, Luda pulling the quilt over her limp form.

For awhile, they both watch Midna slumber peacefully.

"Father is out, and won't be back until the morning." Says Luda, her tone hushed and quiet. "Who... Or what is she, and what's wrong with her?"  
Link takes a deep breath before answering in the same tone of voice. "Her names Midna, and I was hoping Renado could tell me what's wrong. … It's a long story, but I'll explain everything when he gets here. Is that okay with you, kiddo?"

Luda gives Link a curt nod. "You look famished. We have a bit here to eat, some leftovers from dinner. It's not much, but you don't mind, right?"

"Of course not," replies he. "I'm far from picky. But if it's okay with you, I'd like to keep watch over Midna for awhile."

She gives Link another nod and leaves the room, heading for the kitchen. She doesn't know what to think right now, but Link seems very concerned about this strange girl, and she'll be damned if she turns away the one who got them all out of that mess with the twilight. Even if nobody else seems to care these days.

* * *

Renado came home to quite a shock. Not only has Link returned, but it seems he brought a friend. A very sick friend indeed. But that wasn't what shocked him.

He'd never seen a Twili personally, of course, but the second he laid eyes on her he knew. One of those abominations, the very same who nearly plunged Hyrule into a permanent nightmare, enjoying the luxury of his own bed.

The nerve, the bloody nerve.

"You brought one of those... _things_, into my home?!" He roars, utterly furious.

"C-calm down, already! Let me explain!" Responds Link, wearing an almost comical expression of fear and surprise.

"Fine. You have three minutes to explain this to me, starting right now."

Link grabs a chair and sits down, wiping sweat off his brow. "That 'thing' was my partner during my fight with Ganon. Without her we'd all either be dead or still cowering as spirits."

Renado gives an exasperated sigh, sitting down opposite him. "I'm guessing you went ahead and did exactly what I warned you against, hm? Figured out a way to manipulate that shard? You know you've had all of Ordon Village in upheaval, looking for you."

This surprises Link; he didn't think anyone really cared all that much about him these days.

"So you saved this Twili. Then what? You plan to elope somewhere, maybe buy a house out in the country? She's a creature of darkness. And you? You are not." His words burn into Link, as truthful as they are painful. Assuming she recovers, what then?

"Look, please, just help her. I don't know where else to turn, and-" Renado raises his hand, beckoning silence.

"I will help her recover. But as soon as she is well, take her and get out of here. Do you realise how Twili are viewed around here, now? She can have a cloak of mine to cover her more obvious features, but other than that, you are on your own. I simply cannot risk aiding you two any further, for my family's sake." He glances upstairs, where Luda is sleeping. "Sound good?"  
That was all Link could hope for. "Yes, that sounds fine to me. Thank you."

Renado rubs his hands together in grim anticipation. "Then let's see what we can do, shall we?"


	9. Final Proclamation

At last, it seems peace has once again blessed Hyrule. Of course, that depends on the definition of "peace". With the hours she's been putting in, Zelda can hardly call it "peaceful".

Since the final meeting in the mirror room, she has been brooding. Of course, her public image is unfaltering, as it always is; only she can fathom the depth of her decisions.

Thanks to the Hero, the kingdom was brought back from decline, destruction even. Link, along with Midna, retook Hyrule and restored the monarchy. Though she is certainly thankful, it put things into perspective; Hyrule's immediate annexation was and still is her responsibility, her shame. It showed her that the lax, lavish lifestyle she lead prior to Zant's invasion did nothing but weaken her constitution and spoil her will.

But more than anything, it got her thinking. Ruling over a fading kingdom as the last of a dying lineage was more than enough for her; she always assumed that destiny would take its course, and should the powers that be decide that the kingdom of Hyrule is to fade, that is something she must accept.

But then _she_ came. Zelda's own negative, Princess Midna. Zelda saw within her exactly what she herself was resigned to; freely spinning in the tides of destiny, without a care for her own power.

In Hyrule's weakened state, she could have renewed Zant's attack and easily overtaken the Kingdom. It would have been quick and devastating; in a matter of weeks, all of Hyrule would have been under her control. Even then, Zelda had predicted it; her blade was always close by while dealing with the Twilight Princess.

But she relented. Relented, and destroyed the only link from her people's nightmarish prison to the world of light.

Why?

For many a day she pondered this. Did she sacrifice her people's only chance at freedom for the sake of duty? To sever any opportunity for Ganondorf to return to the world of light? She should have known better than that; Ganondorf had escaped a thousand cages before, and will do so again.

But Zelda is sure Midna knew this. Midna is both cunning and intelligent, certainly able to figure out that Ganondorf is ultimately unstoppable and unkillable, so long as he possesses the Triforce of Power.

Furthermore, Midna abandoned the Hero, the one whom Zelda had thought she loved, even if she herself was unaware of it until the end. Could she have been mistaken? But Midna had meant to say something to him, before she left the world of light. Some sort of recognition of her feelings, it had to have been. And besides, Midna's mannerism toward him even during their quest betrayed at least a fondness for the Hero.

Could she have simply shattered the mirror because the Goddesses had demanded it so? The Goddesses decreed that the worlds were never to touch, of course, but with Midna in command of her Kingdom, and with the Hero at her side, rationally she would have tried to broker a peace between the two worlds.

But she did not. That leaves only one possibility. Fear. She feared the Goddesses, and through that fear did she act...

She shattered the mirror to please the Goddesses. To please them by adhering to their design, their master plan, known as destiny.

_Destiny_. Through that servile reflection did Zelda see her own wretchedness; to be captured without a blow landed, to be rescued by the dashing hero, and to once again rule as a limp wristed monarch to a laughably defended kingdom until the next invasion.

It was only then did she understand the actions of the Interlopers, the true purpose behind their power. They were the only ones in the history of all the lands to dare to defy the Goddesses. It was not for sheer power or bloodlust, no; it was a statement of defiance.

They defied the laws of destiny, and were punished in turn as the ultimate, everlasting example. They were banished from the world of light itself to a dimension of penumbric darkness. Banished to a realm where they will never truly die out, but simply devolve, until they are nothing more than amorphic, apathetic nothings. Mass without meaning.

_A warning, a threat from above_, thinks Zelda, her mind clearer than ever before. _A vivid cage, a ghoulish message to all those that would dare oppose destiny._

But what of the triforce?

_Yes, what of the triforce? If what I'm thinking is true, why would they leave such a powerful artefact in their wake? _ A worthy question. Zelda considers this for a moment. The Goddesses leave the embodiment of ultimate power behind, with the ability to warp reality and, to that extent, destiny at the wielder's pleasure. Why?

Not a question she can answer today, nor one she can concern herself with at the moment. No, she has work to do. Since the fall of Ganondorf and her restoration to the throne, she has been working ceaselessly to pull together her fragmented kingdom.

It took an unholy coup to force her mind into action, but finally she understands what she must do.

Never again will the throne fall. The prophecy has been answered long enough.

There will be no Princess Zelda to rescue, no. Never again will she allow herself to become a pawn in the cyclic chess game of the Goddesses.

It is time for the girl to become a woman. For the child to become an adult. _For the Princess,_ thinks she_, to become a Queen._

So here she stands, on a raised platform in Castle Town's centre. Thousands of upturned faces greet her with earnest admiration, waiting for her speech.

"My fellow Hylians, I come to you in the wake of Hyrule's restoration to issue a final proclamation. In these recent months, you have seen the horrors inflicted to our great land by the Twili invaders. You have seen Hyrule cloaked in the bleak shadows of twilight. We all have seen our kinsmen and brethren slaughtered before our very eyes by the monstrosities unleashed by the usurper, Zant." There are hushed murmurs throughout the crowd; they were evidently not expecting this. "By sheer division did they hold our territories for as long as they did. They decapitated, quite literally, the head of the Zora's kingdom. They drove the Goron tribes into turmoil and corruption." She pauses for dramatic effect. "And now, only through the actions of a few individuals do I stand with you today." The crowd has gone completely silent, every ear now honing in on Zelda's delicate tone.

"I am here to announce that the Kingdom of Hyrule is no more."

Several audible gasps emanate throughout the crowd.

"The Kingdom was brought down not by Zant, nor any foreign power; indeed, it has been dead for decades." She leans in for the final blow.

"The kingdom's era has passed. Today, we stand together to announce a new era. We were ruled by weak monarchs and greedy statesmen, but that time is over." On cue, new, crimson banners with the royal family's insignia emblazoned upon them flow down from the city walls behind her. "From the Kingdom's ashes, a new phoenix has risen." Her eyes now blazing as crimson as the banners behind her, Zelda's voice is steadily rising in tone and pitch. "Already the many fiefdoms and factions of Hyrule have rallied under my sole banner. One entity shall remain, one government and one sovereign authority. From the many we will forge an indivisible whole, answering only to a single throne!" She is roaring now, her voice making ripples throughout the thousands gathered below her. "And from that throne… I will watch over you." She ends on a calmer note, her will as cold and hard as tempered steel. "Never again will a foreign power overtake this land. Never again will our potential be crushed by destiny's endless flood! An empire shall rise! The Imperium Hylia!"

At first, complete silence. Then, slowly, a few Hylians begin to clap. Then, within seconds, a storm of applause rises like a tide, blasting off the walls of the ancient Town.

_And now, the final piece. _ Zelda puts her right arm across her chest, then straightens her arm into a straight, upraised salute. "For the empire! For the Imperium Hylia!" She roars, and is answered in turn.

"**For the empire! For the Imperium Hylia!"**

* * *

Midna takes only a few days to recover. It was as if she was parched, dying of thirst, when a torrential rainstorm brought her back to life. As wonderful as her recovery is, it also deeply disturbs her; it is as if the land itself returned her from the brink. And if that is true, that could only mean that... _No, there has to be another explanation,_ she reassures herself. Surely it couldn't be _that_. Her ancestors had survived there for generations, as did she for her entire life before Zant's takeover... _But then I travelled to the other side, didn't I_, she reminds herself wearily. But she was perfectly fine within the twilight enveloping Hyrule, so it couldn't have been Zant's doing. But she decides to shelf this matter for now; this is the first time she's been awake for longer than a few minutes, and she is eager to see how Link is doing. Of course, when it gets down to business, she needs to first learn how he managed to get a hold of that shard he found. That sort of luck is too good to be true.

In fact, she finds his absence curious to say the least. What could he possibly be up to?

As if on queue, voices can be heard from across the hallway in another room; one distinctly gruff voice, and another, completely unmistakeable voice.

"So you're sure she did this? I don't understand her rationale," says Link, his voice both confused and forboding. "This is what I was told," the gruff voice replied. "Yesterday, Queen Zelda declared the kingdom dead. But what she is apparently building in its place is what worries me. The Imperium Hylia, is what she had called it. Then she fired the entire bureaucracy."

The voices reach her room, and the door to her right opens. Through it walks a young man she never thought she would see again. That she was not supposed to see again.

"You're awake," breathes Link, with a curious blend of both relief and worry.

He walks slowly over to her, and sits down on her bed. "You are alright, aren't you?" He favours her a searching, worrying gaze.

She picks herself up slowly, rising to a sitting position on the bed. "Course I am. What did you expect? I'm not just going to roll over and die after all that craziness-"

She is pulled into a tight hug. But this is not what shocks her.

When they were in the twilight realm, it was as if her every sense was numbed. Returning to the world of light, she was unprepared for the warmth and pressure from the embrace. The gentle force against her chest and shoulders, the warm breath she feels on the back of her neck, it is almost too much to take in at once. It is as if the very texture of her being is responding, as if she is a frozen mammal slowly thawing from the rich, warm fluid surrounding her.

For a few moments, she simply sits, too surprised to make a move. But before she can respond, the sensation leaves her, and link holds her shoulders at arm's length. "You had me worried. Very worried. If you didn't make it, I don't know what I'd-" But he is silenced by a cool, slender finger on his lips. "Don't worry, I'm fine. I think we'd all be a lot worse off if you hadn't closed that portal behind you."

Link gives her a confused expression before it dawns on them both.

"You... You did close it right? The portal... Right...?"

"Oh, no. Oh, shit. This is bad," whispers Midna, consumed by the possibility that he might have passed through to the world of light.

"What have I done!" Link crashes his fist against his forehead, shaming his complete idiocy. How could he forget something so obvious? _Idiot, idiot, idiot!_

"We have to go. Now." But Link is too busy cursing himself to hear Midna, one hand on the side of his face, the other hand still curled into a fist on his forehead.

"**NOW!" ** She screams, catching his attention and rattling the windows.

Within minutes, they are both packed and on Epona, leaving a sleepy Luda and bewildered Renado at the door.


	10. Reconnaissance

The feeling nearly struck Umro unconscious in the beginning. He had imagined what the world of light would be like, but he never would have thought...

The scout who was sent to lay the shard down within the sand committed suicide upon his return to the Twilight; now Umro finally understands why. It is as if the nectar of life itself is being poured into you, and to leave that land after only a glimse would be unbearable.

At that thought, the familiar, cold hatred began to snake its way up his spine. The light dwellers' very existence is an affront to his people's suffering.

_So many centuries, locked away in that soul-sucking nightmare_, burns Umro's thoughts. _ So long we have choked, denied true air. That poisonous realm tainted our minds and bodies so deeply..._

_They will pay. _From beneath his deep, black hood Umro cracks a savage smile.

_We will retake this land and beyond. We will grow in power and numbers until the Goddesses themselves are humbled._

_I will not forgive._

He draws his sword, momentarily admiring the sharp, defining glint of the sun on its keen, black edge.

_I will not forget._

But first, of course, comes the reconquering of this land of Hyrule. Zant's invasion gave Umro an idea of what he will be dealing with, and he is not impressed. In fact, now would be the best time to strike. Surely Princess Zelda is unprepared, not expecting the return of the Twili so soon.

_But..._ Umro surveys the Twili already through the portal; most of them are sprawled over the ground, overcome by the sheer power of sensation emanating from the world of light. Those that were able to withstand it simply sat dazed, evidently in no condition to fight.

_No. I will have to give them at least a few days to settle into their new home, if they are going to be at all effective in the coming conquest. Besides, it appears we already have a vacant fortress at our disposal; with a few thousand hands, it should only be a matter of days before we have this dilapidated wreck fully functional again._

Umro turns around, watching the progress his men are making; already, over a hundred Twili have left the portal. The first few dozen are also waking up from their stupor. _ It's about time,_ thinks Umro, utterly impatient. _Every second wasted is a boon to the Hylians._

"You all," he commands, "gather yourselves. I want this fortress cleaned and rebuilt, top to bottom. Report to me any structural weaknesses you observe. If anything obstructs your path, destroy it and move on. When these men sober up," Umro gestures to the remaining Twili still in shock, "brief them on my orders."

Immediately, the soldiers comply. "Yessir!"

_That is interesting._ Umro had never been given a reply before; the Twili had simply obeyed, moonstruck as always. But in this case? _Freedom from that nightmarish cage seems to have strengthened their resolve_, Umro observes. _ Perhaps there is hope for our race, after all._

_**Perhaps. But no hope for you.**_

"_Who said that!_" Roars Umro, his head darting left to right, hunting the source of those words.

"My lord? Are you al-" The twili who spoke finds himself suspended above the ground, choking in Umro's deathgrip. "_Was it you! ANSWER ME!_" His eyes are ablaze with ferocious alarm, his hand holding Harbringer poised; the oil black blade is begging for slaughter.

The twili gives him a bland, confused look. Evidently the Twilight's numbing curse has not completely left him.

Relenting, Umro slowly releases him. "My mistake. Carry on." And so he does.

_What was that voice?_ He knows none in his entourage would be suicidal enough to speak to him like that.

Could he have imagined it?

... _I must have_, he hastily concludes, refusing to indulge his paranoia. _A trick of the wind, that is all._

He sheathes his blade and walks toward the protective railing at the edge of the mirror room. His eyes turn to the south. _Curious_. A life form he did not expect in the least is making her way through the still desert haze... _Why would that be_, Umro wonders. No matter; he welcomes the distraction.

* * *

Their passage is soft and fleet. Midna has taken to hiding in Link's shadow as they make rapid progression toward the desert fortress; the desert heat is brutal, true, but that heat is not her only worry. As always, the ebb and flow of this world leaves her... Unsettled. Retreating to that warm, dark haven displaced by Link's presence is almost second nature to her, and certainly a hard habit to break.

But she mustn't forget the urgency of the situation. _If Umro Krasus is on this plane... Well, it'd make for a whole new game plan, wouldn't it?_ She pulls her own shadow forward to inspect their progress, taking note of the sun's position. _At this rate_, she figures, _we'll be at the mirror chamber by dusk._

She just now realises that they haven't spoken a word since their departure for the Gerudo desert. In fact, this whole fiasco has given them next to no time to catch up; Midna is doubtful she's even gotten over the fact that she's returned to the world of light.

And now? She's not only back, but in the exact same situation they were in not months earlier.

_And... I couldn't be happier._

Wait, what is she thinking? This is the _second_ time she's been usurped! Barely over half a year and she's already suffered two coups!

_Once again tucked safely under the Hero's shadow._

Once again off to save Hyrule, this noisy, bustling world of light. Away from her people, away from where she needs to be-

_Away from despair._

_Shut up!_

"We have sentries!" Shouts Link, bringing Midna back to her senses. And, surely enough, two watch towers overlook the abandoned Bulblin encampment where they faced off with King Bulblin. Though, this time, the towers are manned by what appear to be pale, distorted humanoids with glowing red eyes.

Unmistakeable. Those are Twili, if Midna's ever seen them. Which, of course, she has. "On it!"

Well, this gives her the opportunity to try one of her more difficult powers, at least.

Arching over Link, Midna distorts and transforms nearby shadows to release a thick, black fog. She then coils this dense smoke around her unfortunate kinsmen, rendering them completely blind for at least as long as is needed.

"Sorry guys," she mutters under her breath as she returns to Link's shadow.

* * *

Umro toys with the idea of chasing Midna down on his own; though she likely has the boy for a companion, even the two of them combined are no match for him. But that would make things far less interesting, now wouldn't it?  
Besides, such an action is against the plan. Umro needs Midna alive, at least for the time being, if only to give adequate reasoning for his invasion plan. As he observed, the twili are already beginning to shake off their numbness; he will need to tread carefully if he is to keep them under his command.

Though, if they knew the true nature of the Royal Family, he is certain they would stop at nothing to exact revenge...

... But no, it is too risky; given his proximity to the Royal bloodline, it could potentially provoke a backlash and threaten his authority.

It would be best to continue his present course of action. Simple, yet so terribly effective.

If Midna understands the exact nature of his plans, she will doubtlessly try to warn Zelda. And Zelda, in turn, will have no choice but to mount an offensive. At that, Umro will have the ammunition to mount his own offensive. Of course, Zelda's paltry forces will be as nothing to his military might. When the twili reawaken, so should their magical abilities; with the potential of the twili finally realised, nothing will be able to stop the conquest, not even the Goddesses themselves.

And, even if all this would somehow fail, he hasn't forgotten his champion. Though the champion's body is weak and frail now, the Lord of House Krasus is not without his tricks.

In fact, now is as good a time as ever to prepare him for his esteemed guests-to-be.

* * *

Link scans the sky. The sun is closing in on the eastern rim, bathing the sands in a faded yellow glow; twilight will come soon. "Hey Midna," he says, "how exactly are we going to do this?" Now that they are certain Umro's come over to the other side, they need to find a way to send them back, or stop their numbers from flooding into Hyrule at the very least.

"Don't worry about the details," she responds confidently, "I'll handle the iffier bits. You just worry about what I tell you to, alright?"

Works for him. "Aye-aye."

Just in time too, as they are rapidly closing in on the front steps of the old fortress. Surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be any activity outside the towering building; in fact, it seems just as abandoned as it has been since Midna shattered the mirror. Link slows Epona down to a trot as they approach the first set of broken steps; Midna reforms beside him as he dismounts.

"Now, this is where it gets a bit tricky," she whispers, a steely glint sparkling in her eye. She lifts her right hand above her head, and grabs hold of Link's arm with her left. "Close your eyes."

Expecting something significant, he closes his eyes tightly. A minute passes, with nothing out of the ordinary that he detects. _Probably just need to be patient_-

"There, done. You can open your eyes now," she says, clapping dust off her hands. His eyes open to...

He blinks. "Um, what exactly did you do?" He sees nothing out of the ordinary; Midna is standing near Epona, her arms behind her back.

"You'll see," she winks. "Just get moving, and keep quiet."

_I hate when she does that_, he mentally grumbles to himself. _Why does she always have to be the sneaky, secretive type?_

Link makes his way up the steps, soft and quick as a shadow. He is about to slither through the front door when he spots a heavily armored twili to the right of the door, hidden by the shadows.

Staring right at him.

He freezes, his hair standing on end; he's faced monstrosities and horrors, beasts and demons, but the only thing that really gets to him is being caught while sneaking.

Of course, he has bigger problems now. "Midna," he breathes as quietly as possible, "... help?"

She walks up behind Link; completely ignoring the guard, she swats him gently on the forehead, an expression of mock exasperation on her face. She then walks right up to the twili, eyeing him in the face.

_Now I get it_, thinks Link, feeling like an idiot.

For good measure, Midna gives the twili guard a sharp prod between the eyes; he falls to the ground as if hammered over the head with a rock. "Sleeping like a baby," she coos. "Told you not to worry, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah," he sulks.

"I cast an invisibility spell on us," she elaborates, with great pride. "As long as I'm focused on what I am doing, we're completely invisible."

Link's eyebrows raise. _ How convenient._ "And why not mention that to me beforehand?"

But she's already back at the door, gently sliding it open. "C'mon," she beckons. "No time to lose."

They enter the large corridor quietly, both of them keeping to the walls and corners. It appears there was a renovation going on; several racks line the sides of the walls, holding typical twili weaponry, with several large, rectangular tables arranged neatly in rows to the back-right corner of the room.

But the most striking feature is the large, imposing stone throne, curiously positioned in the middle of the room. Well, not the throne itself, but rather it's occupant; a massive, black suit of armor is sitting in it, full plated hands curled over the arms of the throne. Though it looks lifeless, Midna isn't so easily fooled. "Whatever that thing is, it's definitely not just some suit of armor," Midna whispers into Link's ear.

"Well, that's obvious," he quietly responds. "And I think we both know why it's here. To keep us busy, like some sort of watchdog, maybe."

Midna nods gently, giving the room another quick scan. "It could be a Darknut, though that isn't any type I've ever seen." The armor that the thing is wearing is foreign to Midna, though she recognises some of the patterns in the design as twili-based.

"Well, he's in our way, and I have a feeling he won't let us get past without a fight, invisibility or not," he concludes, walking over to one of the weapon racks. "So I'll tell you what. I'm going to keep him busy, while you go up and get rid of that shard." Before she can object, he continues. "No arguments. This is the only way. Sides," he straightens his posture, cracking his neck muscles. "I'm the Hero here, remember?"

Seeing that she can't convince him otherwise, she resigns. "Fine," she responds with a sigh. "But _be careful_. I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, she bursts into smokey shadow, blowing across the floor and past the throne, into the next room.

_As long as my invisibility holds up, he should be fine._

_I hope._

_

* * *

_

As he thought, the plated being twitched as Midna passed by him. Any closer, and he's sure to detect Link.

"Better get this rolling," he says to himself, grim with anticipation. He grabs two of the more normal looking blades from the rack, testing their weight.

The creature's hand twitches again.

_We'll see how long you can last, _he thinks, for the both of them.

The creature draws itself up to it's full height, over 7 feet (2.15m) at the least.

Link makes a running dash at it. _The bigger they are..._

He dives between its legs, slashing at the segments connecting its sabatons and leggings with both blades. _The harder they fall._

And fall it does, or so Link thought; it pivots on its arm, shifting its bulk like a gymnast, landing squarely on both massive feet. It makes a full charge at Link; missing him by inches, it crashes into the throne, shattering it in a shower of explosive shards.

_Wait a minute, I thought I was invisi-_

It then extends its arm. Another explosion is heard, and a massive, two handed sword falls into its closed fist.

As soon as the blade is firmly in its grasp, it charges again, sword at the ready. Link rolls, once again nearly losing his head.

For a minute there, he nearly became desparate. Then he saw it. Right on it's back, between the shoulderblades, a small, glowing ruby is inlaid. _ That's gotta be important_, he thinks. _And far from unintentional._ If only he can hit that... _Charging again!_

But this time, Link goes straight for it. Diving once more, he rolls between the giant's legs, coming back up behind him. Immediately, he throws one of the swords like a dagger, striking the ruby dead center.

He expected the thing to collapse. Instead, it begins to shake.

And shake it does.

Every segment begins to vibrate, as if the whole thing transformed into a gigantic tuning fork.

Link wastes no time; while the creature is stunned, he grabs the sword and sprints in Midna's direction.

* * *

Gliding like dust, Midna keeps as low to the ground as possible; ultimately unnecessary, as she is still technically invisible. _But it never hurts to be cautious_, she reminds herself.

She soon finds herself in the mirror chamber. Reforming, she takes a quick look around; coast is clear. And right there, exactly what she needed; the mirror shard. _This little thing is actually powering a portal?_ But indeed it is. Albeit a very misshappen portal, it is still strong enough to guarantee a passage to the twilight realm. _Assuming you survive the tight fit, that is._

_Wait a minute... Something is amiss. There were scouts as far out as the edge of the compound. Why is it there were no twili on the way up? Or here, for that matter-_

**WHAM!**

Incredible force hits her from behind, knocking her off her feet.

"Hello, my queen. You are looking much healthier."

She knew only one person with such a smooth dialect.

"Umro!" She scrambles to her feet, turning rapidly to meet the aggressor.

Indeed, it is Umro Krasus; his robes ever flowing, the hooded figure towers over Midna.

"So, Zant-the-Second decides to show his face." At this, she drops into a combat stance, ready for his next move. "I won't let you drag this world into chaos to satisfy your own lust for power."

"You think all of this is simply for power's sake? You are one to talk, royalist. The Royal Family's bloodsucking line ends with you, race traitor," he growls, drawing his blade.

"You're the traitor!" She lashes back, unfazed by Umro's absurd conclusion. "We rule by divine right, and only for the good of our people; you stole that right for your own, to satisfy your own greedy desires."

For a moment, Umro almost seems confused, unsure. Then it dawns on him.

"You really don't know, do you? Tsk-tsk-tsk," he tuts in mock disapproval, a malicious grin slowly spreading across his pale face. "Did you ever wonder what separates us from the common twili? Why we can do magic, yet they can at best levitate?"

Before Midna can respond, he continues. "Have you ever wondered why we, of the upper caste, are the only twili to maintain proportionate bodies, while the rest of the twili become mishappen and deformed?"

Midna tries to stammer out a response, but is once again cut off by Umro. "Know this, royal parasite. Nothing was free in that forsaken dimension. Not even life itself." His face once again masklike, Umro's voice dulls to a dusty monotone. "Our ancestors, the great Interlopers, made a deal with death itself, a deal of self preservation. Their health, for ours. Their minds, for ours. Their spirit, for ours." Umro's tone once again grows defiant; his deep, red eyes seem to glow like coals inside his hood. "We unconsciously sap their very essence to feed our own spirits. We have done so for centuries."

_No,_ recoils Midna, at a complete loss for words. _This can't be true!_

"Oh, but it is, girl," he replies, as if reading her thoughts. "They did indeed fear your morality, that I now understand. It is secret knowledge passed down the royal line for generations; I only found out by chance. Why else would they keep you in the dark about this?" Umro lifts his sword arm and slowly walks toward Midna. "Tell me, do you still wish to be princess? To rule over your loving subjects, the very same you and your line have been slowly _consuming_ over the centuries?"

Strength leaves Midna's body; she crashes to her knees, overcome by shock. _It all makes sense now. Zant's power within the Twilight Realm... My own, as well... Throughout our history ... All this time..._

She is lifted bodily from the ground, her soft throat firmly in Umro's iron grip.

"Don't worry," he whispers. "I cannot promise you a painless death. But it will be quick." He readies his blade, preparing for the final stroke.

"_**OOMPH!**_"

Before he can react, a force slams into him hard enough to knock him off balance; he releases Midna, who crumples to the floor. _That damn brat again!_

Link stands in front of Midna, blade in each hand. "I don't think so," he pants. He is covered in sand and dirt, his tunic ripped in several areas.

There is only one way he could have gotten this far without being detected. Her invisibility spell was unusually weak, allowing Umro to see her rather easily. Yet, all the more likely, she was conserving her power to use on the boy. "All this time, Midna? You clever little witch." Lip service, of course. He imbued his champion to see through even the strongest of such spells; the twili are akin to the shadows, and stealth is their most favoured tactic.

He did not expect Link's sudden entrance, but he knew the two would travel together; he simply used the boy to test his creation. Obviously this boy's survival indicates there is still much work to be done on his pet abomination. _No matter_, he concludes. He is more than a match for the two of them.

_They know this is a battle they cannot win. The boy will fight to the death, of course; Midna might yet prove to be a more interesting foe. Assuming she wakes up from her timely slumber, that is._

Upright once more, Umro flourishes the Harbringer and prepares a vertical upslice.

Link barely catches it in time; his left sword shatters, as does his arm. "Augh!" He screams, flying backwards, unable to contain the jagged pain blasting through his nerves.

"Good night, child." Umro raises the Harbringer; it is most displeased at being denied its kill.

But it does not fall.

_What?_

A thin, lithe hand stops his arm with uncanny strength.

Umro smiles. _Now it gets interesting._


	11. Revival

"You cannot best me, girl." Umro forces his arm down, overpowering Midna's grip; the blade sinks gently into her shoulder, drawing thin, ruby rivulets down her arm.

But just before Midna is about to give in and let Umro finish her... He stops.

His force disappears, the blade now resting by its own weight on Midna's shoulder. She looks into his face; it is agape, in shock. His features are difficult to distinguish in the dim light, but his red eyes are dead clear; the pupils reduced to pinpricks, he is focused straight on Midna's fresh wound.

"Red blood," he whispers, his voice cracking at the end.

She takes advantage of this momentary distraction. Knocking his blade aside, Midna cups her hands and forms another roiling orb, blasting it into Umro's sword arm.

"Argh!" He recoils, dropping his sword in pain and surprise; a black crater marks his concealed armor. She scans the area rapidly; Link is behind her, unconscious.

Umro may be distracted for another few seconds at best.

Frenzied blood blasting through her veins, Midna slams her palms into the ground, using the only power she can think of.

The entire mirror chamber begins to disintegrate, the area immediately around the two being reduced to shadowy particles. She hears Umro scream with rage before he is overwhelmed by the flood of particles. She knows this will drain all of her energy, and quite possibly kill them in the process, but she has no choice; she curls her arms around Link's torso and holds on for dear life.

"_NO!_" Umro slams his good hand into the remaining ground, holding the mirror itself together with all his power; if he loses this mirror fragment, everything is forfeit. He will not fail here, not now, not after all he's done! Even if it takes his own- "_YEEAAAAAAAHHHH!_"

* * *

It worked. She managed to pull them both through the shard to... _To where_, she wonders. She can see nothing; it's as if the light had not only faded, but died entirely. _Just like the portal from Hyrule after Link left it,_ she realises, her heart rate steadily rising.

Right before she assumed the worst, a dim, flickering light starts to resonate a small distance away.

In the perpetual darkness, that sort of glint is almost too strong to bear; in Hyrule it would be weaker than starlight, yet in this blackness it illuminates both herself and Link.

_Link_. She turns to him, leaning in to make out his face; though his eyelids are trembling, his body is wholly limp. His left arm seems to be drifting in a nonexistent breeze, bending at sickening angles. She knows she cannot heal him in her condition. Of course, that means nothing if she remains stuck in this strange, oil black realm.

_Curious._ A sensation is gripping her. Turning to the light, she can indeed see that it is drawing her nearer.

As if an ill-fated comet, she finds herself in a slowly accelerating orbit around the pinprick, drawing closer to the mysterious light with each orbit.

But how does she know she is orbiting it? She cannot answer, but she senses it. This dimension, wherever they are, is completely unnatural; they are not in a liquid, certainly, but the air seems thicker, as if a dense, shadowy fog were carpetting the realm.

Another thing that is unsettling. The very fact that they are floating freely, as if without mass, unnerves her deeply. She feels a lock of red hair brush against her cheek, as if submerged in water.

_Wait. Not red. _It is a light grey, utterly deprived of any pigmentation. She leans in on Link once more, dimly lit in the half-light; his brown hair and fair skin are all shades of grey. _ Not even colour can exist in this realm_, she realises.

_The light. _She completely forgot. Turning back to it, she nearly lets Link go to shield her eyes; now much closer, the orb is a roiling mass, strong enough as to make focusing on it difficult.

She feels heat prickle her skin as they are pulled closer. She doesn't have time to scream before the light engulfs them both.

* * *

After it is over, the first thing that hits him is the pain. Pain so severe, so intense, it threatens to break his sanity. Black blood covers him, covers everything around him; it puddles around him, dripping off the shattered edge of the floor into the room below.

He doubles over, on the verge of collapse. He tries to steady himself on all fours, and finds he cannot. Slipping on his left side, he tumbles to the ground, nearly losing consciousness.

He tries to move his left arm. He finds that he cannot. _I have failed_, he resigns. _I will soon bleed to death._

Death. A terrifying prospect. It will soon embrace him.

Can he confront the Goddesses as a mere spirit? Will he see them at all? Or will he be condemned to another prison, to languish in misery for all eternity?

_**Such sad questions, wayfarer. To have traveled so far, slain so many, only to die so pitifully?**_

The voice. The very same. He tries to speak, but finds that he cannot.

_**Fear not, young slayer. You need only think it, and I understand.**_

Speaking to him, but not really; he somehow feels the words form in his head. A thought, but a foreign one, completely alien to his understanding. _You know who I am?_

_**I do, wayfarer. How could I not? We are old comrades, you and I; so many lives have we ended together. Do not tell me you have forgotten?**_

He recalls no comrade. The Twili do not have 'friends'-

_**Oh, no, my dear wayfarer. My body is quite young, but I have existed for many, many years.**_

_Body? What the hell are you-_

_**Now that, my friend, is the right question. In form, I am but a well crafted blade. But in essence? A very good question, indeed.**_

_That is nonsense. Are you implying that my sword is speaking to me?_

_**I imply nothing.**_

_You _are_ the Harbringer, then?_

_**Such a crude name for a blade. Alas, I am not 'the Harbringer'. Nay, you may call me Emet.**_

_Emet? The Lord Emet? Impossible. _There is only one Emet in all of Twili history. One of the original Dark Interlopers.

_**Yes, wayfarer, that is I. Driven into the very rock of the land by my treacherous brethren so many centuries ago, only to be found and reshaped into this deadly form by your underlings.**_

_Do you take me for a fool? You are merely a figment of my imagination. You have to be._

_**Are you so sure? **_ The pseudo-voice takes a mocking tone. _**Very well then, O dubious one. Take your blade in hand once more. I promise you, once this is done, you will believe.**_

Umro considers this. Though the staggering pain has given way to cold numbness, he is still rapidly losing blood; while he is sustaining himself on a base level with his magic, he figures that too will diminish in a few minutes, and he will likely die. Yet if he tries to grasp his blade, the energy wasted on that motion will cut his remaining lifespan into mere seconds.

_**What is there to lose, wayfarer? **_The low, gravelly voice chimes in once more. _**Take me in hand, and you may very well be saved.**_

What _is_ there to lose, now, when he is so close to death? Surely the Goddesses have a gruesome fate prepared for him. Though this seems worryingly convenient, he realises that he has no choice. If the creature calling itself Emet is lying, the worst he can imagine happening to him is death and suffering. Yet, if he does not accept it- _Augh!_

_**You are bleeding to death. If you do not do as I say, you will die within a few moments.**_

A good point. His vision is tunneled and blurry, but he sees his blade beside his right arm, strangely clean looking despite the gore surrounding it. Feeling the life slowly leave him, he reaches out to grasp the blade.

Clawing fingers grasp at it feebly, failing to secure the hilt. Once more, he pushes himself to the brink, enclosing his bloodied fist around it...

And at once, it all stops.

_**See, wayfarer? All is good. **_The voice lets out a mocking laugh, vibrating within his head.

He feels vitality return to his body, as if sapped from the very air. Immediately, the bleeding stops; the caked stump that was his left arm simply drips like a closed tap.


End file.
